


Hearsay Heresy

by GalahadThePure



Category: Dragalia Lost (Video Game)
Genre: Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Bathing/Washing, Case Fic, Drugging, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Personality Swap, Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-16
Updated: 2020-03-22
Packaged: 2020-12-20 18:36:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 24
Words: 83,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21061316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GalahadThePure/pseuds/GalahadThePure
Summary: Heinwald is the Church's top Inquisitor, as pious and by the book as it gets. While investigating a case, he runs into an infamous bounty hunter known as The Cougar, whose actions border on heresy. They form a temporary partnership to solve the case, yet every second with this wild card makes Heinwald fear for his life. He is grateful to part ways once the case is solved, only to be called in by the Cardinal the next day to see a familiar face as his new partner.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is a product of my horny monkey brain saying "what if Curran was FERAL?" Enjoy the ride.

Heinwald gripped his staff tightly as he approached the shady tavern. Investigating such ominous locations was a common occurrence for a member of the Inquisition like him, yet he could never shake the fear of being stabbed or mugged while conducting his duties. He lacked the brawn of most of his peers, but his intellect set him apart from the rest, marking him as the top Inquisitor of the Ilian Church for his spotless record of solving “unsolvable cases.” Heinwald breathed in deeply, clutching the halo hanging from his necklace.

“Goddess protect me,” he murmured to himself.

He gathered his courage, walking up to the front of the pub and knocking on the door. A small slit opened near the top and a pair of beady eyes glared at him.

“What business do you have here?” a deep voice said from behind the door.

“Don’t mind me good sir,” Heinwald replied, “I simply wish to visit your apothecary. Might he have some _arsenic_ on him?”

The small hole closed shut and the large man guarding the door opened it, staring Heinwald down menacingly.

“You may enter,” he grunted.

Heinwald hesitantly stepped inside of the pub. Figuring out the password was no easy feat, but he needed to do so in order to gain access to this tavern. It was a common stomping ground for the culprit he was pursuing and practically swimming with clues of his whereabouts. He approached the bar, ordering a drink for himself to cover up his true intentions of staking the place out for intel on his suspect. Once he had sat down comfortably, Heinwald glanced around the pub, trying to avoid eye contact with its less than savory clientele. His target was a heretical mage; one who was in possession of a Grimoire containing a spell that sacrificed the lives of dragons in exchange for power. As a fellow mage, Heinwald understood the dangers of the spell, and it was his duty as a servant of Ilia to capture this man and bring him to justice.

“Heh, never seen your face around here before,” a gruff voice scoffed behind him.

Heinwald turned around in his stool to see a tall, burly man looming over him. He looked around his age, despite his blonde hair being streaked with gray. Scars riddled his body, from his forearms to his forehead, and a leather eye-patch, embossed with a growling cougar, covered his right eye. Metal enrobed his right hand, and Heinwald couldn’t discern whether it was armor or a prosthetic, nor did he have the courage to ask. Everything about this man sent of shiver of fear down Heinwald’s spine. He felt paralyzed just by looking at him.

“I…” Heinwald stammered, “I heard wonderful things about this tavern’s food. I simply wished to try it for myself.”

“You church dogs are shit at lying,” the man growled, “S’pose you’re gonna tell me you’re on your dinner break before your evening prayer?”

Heinwald swallowed hard. Perhaps coming in his Inquisition uniform wasn’t his brightest idea, yet the rest of his attire would have made him stand out just as much, if not more. Suddenly, Heinwald felt a tug on his shirt, coming face to face with the intimidating man. He felt like he was staring a feral lion in the face, and feared he would be devoured as easily as a beast’s prey.

“Your kind ain’t welcome here,” the man snarled, “Dogs of the Inquisition… you’re clearly chasin’ someone.”

Heinwald’s throat went dry. This man looked like he would snap his spine without hesitation if Heinwald said something he didn’t like.

“If you are worried about being under suspicion of heresy,” Heinwald choked out, “You are not the man I’m pursuing. That is, unless you’re actually a mage.”

A twisted smile spread across the man’s face. He pushed Heinwald back, nearly knocking him off of his stool.

“A mage huh?” the man cackled, “Tell me, does this mage have a special book with some shady spell in it?”

“That… That’s none of your business…”

“Oh I’m afraid it is. Seems like we’re hunting the same prey.”

Heinwald froze in fear.

“You… you’re after the mage as well?” Heinwald wondered.

“Well, somethin’ like that,” the man replied, “I know I could kill the bastard if I found him, but you see, mystery solvin’ ain’t my expertise.”

Heinwald shivered as the man draped his arm over his shoulder, his cheeks turning deep rose with blush.

“But I guess today is my lucky day,” the man grinned, “Maybe you could fill me in on some details about this guy.”

“I’m afraid my investigation is classified,” Heinwald said.

Heinwald winced in pain as the man’s hand clamped down on his shoulder, tightening into a vice grip and bruising his skin. He grit his teeth, trying not to let this man intimidate him.

“I thought all Inquisitors were dogs,” the man laughed, “How’d they let such a scared little kitten into their ranks.”

“I’m not scared of you,” Heinwald retorted, trying to cover up his fear.

“Y’know, I’ll cut you a deal. If I hadn’t spotted ya, you probably would have been dead or someone’s bitch by now. We ain’t too fond of you Church curs around here, but lucky for you, I see you as an opportunity to get my reward. Now, you let me come along with you on your little investigation and I’ll protect your ass from ending up dead in the alleyway.”

“You… you just wish to accompany me?”

“You look like a smart guy. This pub ain’t easy to find, let alone get into cuz of the password. To be able to figure that out without being in our circle is enough to tell me you’re close to crackin’ the case.”

Heinwald squinted. This man had to be up to something.

“What’s the catch?” he asked.

“Catch?” the man laughed, “No catch, just a fair trade. I’ll loan you my strength and my axe, you’ll get to take the mage in to your higher ups… and I’ll get to keep his book.”

Heinwald froze. He knew something was up. That book was incredibly dangerous. He couldn’t possibly let it get into the hands of such a suspicious character, even if that man wasn’t a mage.

“I’m afraid I must decline,” Heinwald said, “I must hand over that grimoire to the Church.”

“Well I’m afraid you ain’t got a choice,” the man snarled, “You’re gonna take me with you and you’re gonna give me that book.”

Heinwald gasped as he felt the man’s grip move to his neck.

“Or else I’ll chop your head right offa your pretty little neck,” the man threatened.

“F-fine…” Heinwald choked, “I’ll… I’ll fill you in on my investigation… I’ll pair up with you to hunt him down… And you can take the grimoire…”

Heinwald took a deep breath as the clamp of the man’s hand around his neck released. The man pulled him in close, resting his hand on his shoulder and grinning shrewdly.

“Now that wasn’t so hard, was it kitten?” the man scoffed.

Heinwald’s heart sunk. He felt like he had just sold his soul to The Nether, but if he hadn’t agreed, he was certain this man would have killed him.

“Now how ‘bout you treat me to some ale?” the man ordered.

“I don’t drink alcohol,” Heinwald replied.

“You don’t gotta have nothing, but you’re still gonna buy me an ale, kitten.”

“Stop calling me ‘kitten’ would you?”

“Then whadya want me to call you?”

Heinwald swallowed hard, “Heinwald… my name is Heinwald.”

“Heinwald huh?” the man repeated, “Well, my name’s Curran. But people ‘round here call me ‘the Cougar’.”

Color drained from Heinwald’s face. Everyone in the Inquisition had heard of “the Cougar.” He was an infamous bounty hunter whose exploits bordered on the brink of heresy, yet he somehow managed to avoid doing anything explicitly illegal. He was a wildcard, but no criminal, and no heretic.

“Based on your face, it seems my reputation proceeds me,” Curran snickered, “Now, you gonna buy me that ale or what, kitten?”

Heinwald hesitantly reached for his coinpurse, calling over the tavern wench to order Curran a flagon of ale.

“That’s a good boy,” Curran smirked, “Lookin’ forward to workin’ with you, Heinwald.”

***

Heinwald peeked out from behind the boulder, Curran waiting impatiently in tow.

“You sure he’s gonna come all the way up this fuckin’ mountain?” Curran complained.

“It seems he’s been using fafnirs as his most common catalyst for the spell,” Heinwald informed, “Their natural habitat is rocky crags like this.”

“You better be right about this, kitten…”

Suddenly Heinwald heard the sound of footsteps coming up the mountain. He hushed Curran to be quiet and hid back behind the rock. As the footsteps grew closer, Heinwald spotted their target, a mage carrying a cage full of young fafnirs. Tucked under his arm was a red, leather-bound grimoire. Heinwald readied his staff, muttering an incantation to prepare his spell.

“Call of Chaos!” he shouted, pointing his staff at the mage.

Dark tendrils rose from the ground, wrapping around the mage’s feet and rooting him in place.

“What the…” he cursed, trying to squirm out of the tendrils’ grasp, “Who goes there?”

Heinwald stepped out from behind the boulder, brandishing his weapon to intimidate the man.

“In the name of the Ilian Church,” he shouted, “You are under arrest for heresy!”

“Yo, gonna need you to hand over the book pal,” Curran growled.

“The Cougar?” the mage hissed, “What are you doing working with the Ilian Church?”

“The enemy of my enemy is my blend,” Curran replied.

Heinwald was shocked. He wouldn’t have expected someone so intimidating and tough like Curran to stumble over his words like that. Yet he didn’t have the heart to correct him. He felt that if he did, Curran would cut out his tongue for doing so.

“My _blend?”_ the mage cackled, “Damn I had no idea the Cougar was such an idiot.”

Curran gritted his teeth, charging at the captured mage with his axe.

“THE HELL DID YOU CALL ME?” he threatened.

“Curran! This isn’t what we agreed to,” Heinwald ordered, “I need to take him in alive. Just help me cuff him, you can get the grimoire, and we’ll be done with this.”  
“Tch… fine…”

Curran set down his axe, walking behind the mage to clap him in handcuffs. Once the mage was restrained, Heinwald opened up the cage to free the captured fafnirs. They chirped happily as they flew out of the cage, returning to their home in the wild.

“Now, let’s take a look at this book,” Curran said, rubbing his hands together.

He wrenched the grimoire from the mage’s possession, happily examining his prize.

“My patron sure’ll be happy to see this,” Curran grinned.

“Patron?” Heinwald wondered, “Nothing illegal I presume?”

“Nah, the guy who requested my services is some big shot at some magic academy. Apparently this book was stolen from their restricted section. They’da been in big trouble if they didn’t get it back.”

“Wow, not even the Inquisition knew that the book was stolen from an academy. I was just told that it was a heretical piece of literature.”

“The Church calls anything they don’t like heretical. Honestly kitten, you’re real smart an’ all, but if you blindly trust everything the Church says, you’ll never be able to find the truth.”

“The truth…”

Heinwald had always prided himself on his ability as a detective. He sought to be one who brought forth the light of the truth, serving Ilia’s justice as an Inquisitor, but perhaps Curran was right. Simply finding out that one detail of the person who commissioned Curran’s services turned the entire case on its head.

“Well, Imma head out,” Curran stretched, “I’m sure your Inquisitor buddies will be here soon to pick up this clown, and I don’t exactly want to be in the company of a bunch of goddess-lovin’ dogs.”

Curran turned on his heel, heading down the mountain. Just as he was about to disappear beyond the horizon, he stopped, turning back around and approaching Heinwald.

“Ya know, kitten,” Curran said, “You ain’t like the rest of those Church folks.”

“What…” Heinwald wondered, “Whatever do you mean?”

“I dunno. But somethin’ tells me that you and I ain’t so different deep down.”

Heinwald had no clue how to interpret Curran’s words. Even with his skills in logic, he could not discern whether Curran had praised or insulted him. Regardless, Heinwald needed to keep on his toes. He didn’t want to die from provoking this man.

“Well, your assistance was greatly appreciated…” he choked out.

“Y’know, I don’t think we’d make too bad of a team,” Curran thought, “You figurin’ out details about our target while I take ‘em out. Long as I could keep most of the dough, sounds like a sweet deal.”

Heinwald froze. Curran wanted to team up with him? This man who threatened his life was now interested in fighting side by side with him? While Heinwald wouldn’t mind a bodyguard, he didn’t want one who could turn on him at a moment’s notice.

“I… umm…” Heinwald stammered.

“What is it kitten,” Curran teased, “Rat got your tongue?”

Even with the slip up in his idiom, Curran’s presence still felt suffocating. Heinwald’s pupils shrunk.

_“He’s going to eat me,” _Heinwald thought nervously, _“He’s going to slaughter me if I don’t appease him.”_

“Fuckin’ hell, looks like we got company…” Curran cursed.

In the distance, Heinwald spied his reinforcements, riding up with a carriage to transport the criminal. Curran clearly hated the presence of other Inquisitors. Heinwald was still amazed that Curran so much as let him survive, even more so that he decided to temporarily partner with him.

“Looks like your friends have come to clean up,” Curran sneered.

“Yeah… it appears so,” Heinwald replied.

“Then time for me to finally make my way outa here.”

Heinwald heaved a sigh of relief, grateful that his reinforcements finally came to rescue him. Just as he started to feel comfortable again, Heinwald was immediately reminded that he was not yet out of the woods. Curran grabbed him by the collar, staring into his eyes menacingly.

“You better not go tellin’ them that I’m takin’ the book,” Curran threatened, “If you put me on the Church’s shit list I’ll make you wish I killed you back when we first met.”

“U…understood,” Heinwald whimpered.

Curran let go of Heinwald’s collar, tossing him to the ground.

“Good boy,” Curran scoffed, “See ya ‘round lil kitten.”

Heinwald remained in shock as Curran descended the opposite side of the mountain. Finally he was safe and could take care of the criminal without fear of being killed himself. Heinwald rescinded his “Call of Chaos,” making the tendrils binding the mage disappear. He grabbed the mage’s cuffed hands, leading him to the approaching carts.

“Do not resist,” Heinwald ordered, “Submit to the Inquisition or face an increase in sentence.”

“Heh, you don’t scare me,” the mage scoffed, struggling as Heinwald forced him forward, “The Cougar’s gone. You’re nothing in comparison to him.”

Heinwald twisted the mage’s arm, making him cry out in pain.

“I told you not to resist,” Heinwald snapped.

Soon enough, the Inquisition’s reinforcements had arrived, and Heinwald could hand over the criminal without any further struggle.

“Nice job today Hein,” one of the other Inquisitor’s beamed, “I knew if anyone could find that heretic, it would be you.”

“Thank you sir,” Heinwald replied, “May Ilia have mercy on this poor sinner’s soul.”

As they loaded the struggling mage into the back of the cart, another Inquisitor conducted a full body search of the culprit.

“Hey, Heinwald,” an Inquisitor said, “You didn’t happen to find the grimoire did you?”

Heinwald froze. He had to think up something to explain the missing grimoire. Curran’s threat still rung out in his head, and he didn’t want to test “the Cougar’s” resolve.

“I umm…” Heinwald stammered, “I’m afraid I couldn’t procure it. In a fit of rage, the heretic threw the grimoire off of the cliff. It could be anywhere at the bottom of the ravine. I tried to catch it, but it slipped out of my hands…”

“Damn…” the Inquisitor cursed, “Well I suppose there was nothing you could do… Besides, at least no other heretic will get their hands on it now.”

Heinwald heaved a sigh of relief. He’d have to say an extra prayer to Ilia tonight for lying, but there was nothing else he could do. If he had told them the truth, the Inquisition would have gone after Curran, effectively putting a target on Heinwald’s back. As he returned to the Church, Heinwald could not get Curran out of his head.

_“See you ‘round lil kitten.”_

It felt more like a threat than a promise or a simple exchange of goodbyes. Even though Curran had technically never done anything that went against the Church, Heinwald had to keep his eye out for him. Curran had his sights set on him. He was trapped in the lair of the Cougar, petrified prey ready for slaughter.


	2. Chapter 2

Heinwald tossed and turned in his bed. In the week since he apprehended the heretical mage, he couldn’t shake his thoughts of Curran. He had never been so frightened by another person’s presence as much as Curran’s. Each moment spent with him made Heinwald feel like he was walking on eggshells and a single word misspoken would result in his death. In all of his years of being an Inquisitor, he never would have thought his most terrifying encounter would be with a temporary ally. As he debated getting out of bed, he heard a knock at the door to his room.

“Come in,” he said.

The door swung open, and one of the servants of his estate entered the room.

“Sorry for the interruption, sir,” she said, “But I just received word that the Cardinal would like to see you as soon as possible.”

“The Cardinal?” Heinwald wondered, grabbing his glasses from his nightstand and placing them across the bridge of his nose, “What did he want to see me for?”

“I do not know. The messenger simply informed me that the matter was urgent and you needed to report to him at your earliest convenience.”

Heinwald broke into a cold sweat. This didn’t sound good for him. Did the Cardinal find out that he lied about the grimoire? Was he going to be stripped of his position? Whatever it was, Heinwald needed to talk to the Cardinal and straighten everything out. He quickly threw on his uniform and left his manor, making way for the Church.

He headed into town, briskly walking past civilians, clergymen, and fellow Inquisitors alike. The Cardinal was a very punctual man, and Heinwald didn’t want to get himself in even more trouble than he was already in for being tardy. As soon as he reached the Church, he headed straight for the Cardinal’s office, bowing humbly as he made eye contact with him.

“Your holiness,” Heinwald said, “You wished to see me?”

“Ah yes, Heinwald,” the Cardinal responded, “Loosen up boy. You act as though I am about to put you in the stocks!”

“Wait,” Heinwald paused, “So I’m not in trouble?”

The Cardinal chuckled, “Quite the contrary. I actually ended up calling you here to discuss a task I feel only you can handle.”

“What is it sir?”

The Cardinal signaled to Heinwald that he could stop prostrating himself, insisting that he sit down for their conversation.

“Now Heinwald,” the Cardinal began, “I’m certain you’ve heard rumors of the infamous bounty hunter, “the Cougar,” have you not?”

Color drained from Heinwald’s face. Was he going to have to arrest Curran? He shook his head, trying to cover up what he already knew.

“I… I have heard of him…” Heinwald fibbed, “What about him, your holiness?”

“Well it is quite the strange story. This man has never been in the best of standings with the Church, yet he hasn’t done anything that violated our code of law.”

“Has he finally broken the law?”

“No, as a matter of fact, that’s why I called you in. The third person joining us should be here shortly.”

“Third person?”

“Yo! Sorry to keep you waiting,” a familiar gruff voice said.

A chill went up Heinwald’s spine.

_“No…” _Heinwald thought to himself, _“He hates the Church and the Inquisition… he couldn’t possibly…”_

Hesitantly, Heinwald turned around to see Curran standing in the doorway. His heart dropped to his stomach.

“I am glad you made it here safely, Mr. Cougar,” the Cardinal said.

“Didn’t get too warm of a welcome from your Inquisitors,” Curran chuckled, “Had to show ‘em your invitation otherwise they woulda clapped me in irons and thrown me into the dungeons.”

“I apologize for that, Mr. Cougar,” the Cardinal replied, “Please take a seat.”

Heinwald stiffened as Curran sat down next to him, wincing at his presence. It felt like the air in the room got heavier, the tension so thick it could be cut with a knife. Heinwald swallowed hard as Curran leaned into him, smirking mischievously.

“Miss me, kitten?” Curran teased.

“So you are already acquainted with him, Heinwald?” the Cardinal asked.

“We…” Heinwald stammered, “We met in the bar that I visited for intel while I was investigating the case of the heretical mage who was sacrificing dragons.”

The Cardinal smiled from ear to ear, “Well, it seems this couldn’t have worked out better then! Mr. Cougar, I believe that due to your appearance here that my offer seems to have sparked your interest?”

“Hell yeah,” Curran responded, “Who’da thought the Church had such deep pockets?”

Heinwald went pale, clenching his fists on his lap. He could tell where this was going and he didn’t like it one bit.

“Wait, your holiness,” Heinwald choked, “Is Curran… Is the Cougar going to join the Inquisition?”

“Something like that,” the Cardinal informed, “In name, yes, he will be an Inquisitor, but his circumstances will be a bit different than yours or the others.”

“I ain’t gonna convert to your religion for this job,” Curran hissed, “But hey, as long as the coin is good, I couldn’t give a damn who I was fightin’ in the name of, be it Ilia or the Nether.”

Heinwald’s stomach turned. He could not believe the Cardinal would let a non-believer join the Inquisition. It was one thing to not be pious, but to outright confess that he would join anyone, even the Nether, if they paid him well, was a huge red flag. He shook his head, leaning in close to the Cardinal so Curran wouldn’t catch word of his hesitance to have him join the force.

“Your holiness,” Heinwald whispered, “Will all due respect, are you certain this is a good idea?”

“The Church has hired mercenaries before, Heinwald,” the Cardinal replied, “We are not the type to turn away lost lambs, especially ones with the might of a ram who could serve us well.”

“But this one is more like a wolf in sheep’s clothing!” Heinwald fretted, “What if he’s a double agent?”

The Cardinal smirked, “This is where you come in.”

“You two done with your little chat?” Curran sighed impatiently, “Or should I just consider myself hired, head out, and leave you be.”

“Oh, no Mr. Cougar, there is one more thing I must address with you before I bid you good day,” the Cardinal informed.

Heinwald sat back in his chair, fearing where the conversation was headed.

“Heinwald here is our top Inquisitor,” the Cardinal praised, “He is a genius when it comes to solving mysteries that fall under the Church’s jurisdiction.”

“Heh,” Curran scoffed, “Surprised someone so scrawny could be the Church’s number one dog. He seems more like a lapdog than a hunting hound.”

Heinwald furrowed his brow at Curran’s comment. At least it was better than being called “kitten.”

“He’s quite the gifted mage and healer,” the Cardinal said, “And what he lacks in brawn, he makes up for in brains. I feel that if he had a partner who could protect him during investigations and battle, he would be unstoppable.”

“I think I get it now,” Curran replied, “You want me to team up with him and cover his ass.”

“That was exactly what I was thinking, Mr. Cougar,” the Cardinal beamed, “With your prowess with the axe and strength as a fighter combined with his impeccable logic and skill with magic, you and Heinwald could be a force to be reckoned with.”

“It’s funny that you mention that,” Curran laughed, “When I first met him, I thought the same thing.”

Heinwald yelped as Curran threw his arm around his shoulder, pulling him in close.

“Looks like we’ll be seeing a lot of each other, lil’ kitten,” Curran sneered, “Lookin’ forward to workin’ with you.”

Heinwald’s throat went dry. He felt completely helpless, like the Cardinal had offered him up as a sacrificial lamb to appease a beast. The Cardinal glared at him, expecting him to accept the proposal for his new partner. Heinwald wanted to disappear. He felt stuck between a rock and a hard place; agreeing or rejecting would end poorly for him either way. Heinwald closed his eyes, weighing out the options before giving the Cardinal and Curran his answer.

“I…” he stammered, “I am in your care…”

Curran slapped Heinwald on the back, knocking the wind out of him. Heinwald didn’t know if he had intended to actually hurt him or if it was supposed to be a friendly pat on the back, but either way, Curran’s brute strength was frightening.

“Well then, I’m guessin’ I have the job,” Curran chuckled, “Got any paperwork for me to fill out, or can I head out?”

“You may leave if you wish,” the Cardinal bowed, “I will have your paperwork ready on Monday.”

“Well, I’ll see you then,” Curran replied.

He stood up from his chair, walking out the door and closing it behind him. Heinwald immediately leaned into the office desk, finally able to express his true feelings without fear.

“Your holiness, are you certain this is a good idea?” Heinwald worried.

“I have heard that he is quite the reliable asset so long as he has his pay,” the Cardinal replied, “Nonetheless I can understand your fears that he will betray the Church… which is why I put him under your jurisdiction. You are the only one I can trust to keep him in check.”

“Why me, your holiness?” Heinwald asked, “He could easily overpower me in terms of physical strength. As you know, I would gladly give my life defending the wills of the Goddess, but if I were to die at the hands of my ‘partner,’ I feel my life would have been forfeited in vain…”

“You are the only one calm enough to handle him,” the Cardinal said, “If any other Inquisitors heard the way he talks or witnessed his behavior, I’m certain that conflict would ensue. With you, however, I could see you at the very least trying to reason with him. Perhaps you could even persuade him to convert.”

“He seems stubbornly against adopting our religion, your holiness,” Heinwald sighed, “And I appreciate that you think so highly of my reasoning and debate skills, but I fear some people cannot be reasoned with.”

“I am begging you, Heinwald,” the Cardinal pleaded, “Please try to keep the Cougar in check, at least for a month. If you feel that he is a lost cause even after then, I will have a Church assassin shadow him to protect you.”

“I find it ironic that I might need a bodyguard to keep me safe from my bodyguard…” Heinwald confessed.

“Here’s hoping that things won’t come to that,” the Cardinal said, “Best of luck to you, Heinwald, and may the Goddess watch over you.”

Heinwald stood up from his chair, walking out of the Cardinal’s office with his head hanging. He had always placed his faith in the Church, but being assigned such a rogue for a partner could make even his steadfast faith waver. Heinwald wished he could dismiss the allegations of Curran being a wildcard and a loose cannon as baseless rumors, but after his initial brief, collaboration with them, Heinwald could tell that Curran was going to be tough to control. He feared their future investigations, worrying that any little thing could set Curran off. Heinwald needed assurance of his safety. He needed a blessing of the Goddess. He headed towards the altar within the Church, kneeling down at a pew to pray.

“Oh Ilia,” he prayed, “Please watch over me as I embark on missions with my soon to be partner. He is a nonbeliever, a vile rogue with a bad reputation. I fear for my life. Please grant me your protection.”


	3. Chapter 3

The group of Inquisitors sneered as Curran entered the church for his first day of work, chattering about the rumors on their new recruit or offering prayer for the poor soul who was partnered with him. Curran paid no mind to the harsh glares of his peers. In fact, their disgust seemed to fuel him; he was pleased that his reputation had reached so deeply into the battalions of the Church. Curran stopped in front of the stone idol of Ilia at the Church’s alter, whistling as he examined the statue from head to toe.

“She ain’t that bad looking,” he remarked.

“Please refrain from making such crude comments about our Goddess,” a voice said from behind him.

Curran turned around, to see the scrawny Inquisitor that he helped a while ago, and his new partner, Heinwald.

“Well good mornin’ to you too, kitten,” he smirked.

“Have you filled out your paperwork and turned it in to the Cardinal?” Heinwald asked.

“Yeah, all that boring stuff is done. So who we huntin’ down today, kitten?”

“Please stop calling me kitten… I am your partner, therefore you are to address me as such, or by my name.”

“I’ve called plenty of my partners in the past ‘kitten,’ and they didn’t seem to mind.”

Heinwald blushed embarrassedly, “I meant partners for work, not girlfriends!”

“Fine. I’m just teasing you anyways,” Curran sighed, “What’s our job for today, partner?”

“The Cardinal informed me of a rather odd case the he believes falls under our jurisdiction. Lately, there has been a trend of disappearances in Alberia, however, before loved ones could file a missing persons report, the missing person would return unharmed.”

“Heh, sounds like the world’s worst kidnapper to me.”

“Curran that is not the issue. The people who returned had no memories of going missing.”

“Huh, well that is pretty weird. You think they just ran away and didn’t want to tell nobody?”

“If this happened to one or two people, I would say so, but the Cardinal informed me that there have been nine documented cases of these sudden disappearances and reappearances within the past two weeks. Besides, runaways are most common between the ages of five and eighteen, whereas we have victims as old as 80 on record for these cases.”

“You think it’s a serial kidnapper then?”

“Well, yes and no. I do believe that all of these people have been disappearing at the hands of the same culprit, but one thing strikes me as odd. What is their motive? Why do they return the victims so soon after kidnapping them? Why do they have no memory of being kidnapped?”

“You sure do go about these cases different than I would. So long as I capture the bastard I couldn’t give two shits about why he did what he did.”

Heinwald scowled. If this is how Curran operated prior to joining forces with him, he could only imagine how many falsely accused “culprits” he had turned into his clients. But Curran’s methods didn’t matter right now. He was simply his armed guard while Heinwald searched for the motive, and by extension, the culprit.

“Regardless,” Heinwald cleared his throat, “I wish to begin our investigation forthwith. While interviewing the victims might lead to a dead end as their memories have clearly been tampered with, we can at least talk to their loved ones about where and when they went missing. Perhaps then we can discern the culprit’s hunting ground and gather even more information on their identity.”

“Sounds like a pain in the ass,” Curran scoffed, “You can get tons of info just by going to a local pub. Why we gotta bother with some boring old interrogations?”

Heinwald sighed, “Look. I can tell that you aren’t too keen on this partnership. Believe me, neither am I, but we must find a way to work together if…”

Heinwald yelped, suddenly cut off as Curran grabbed him by the collar. His pupils shrunk as Curran pulled him in close, glaring at him through his one good eye.

“Listen here, kitten,” Curran growled, “Ain’t nobody bosses me around. Far as I’m concerned, you could end up dead in a ditch once my contract ends with the Cardinal, but as long as I’m bein’ paid by him, we’re partners. That means we’re equals. I ain’t your lackey or your bodyguard.”

Heinwald broke into a cold sweat.

“I…” he stammered, “I apologize for being rude. Perhaps we could find a compromise between our two methods? We could interrogate the families of those who went missing in the afternoon and visit the pubs for additional information in the evening. Is that fine with you?”

Curran loosened the grip on Heinwald’s collar, letting him go. A smirk twisted across his face.

“You learn fast, kitten,” Curran scoffed, “I’ll meet you in the riddle here.”

“It’s ‘meet me in the middle’…” Heinwald said under his breath.

“What was that?”

“Nothing… nothing…”

***

Curran knocked sharply on the door to the small cottage, tapping his foot impatiently as he waited for an answer. A frail young woman came to answer, immediately shrieking and pulling back in fear at the sight of the intimidating man at her doorstep.

“Thieves!” she cried out, “I’ll give you anything you want… please just spare my family…”

Heinwald sighed, stepping in between Curran and the woman.

“Do not be alarmed by my partner madam,” he soothed, “We are with the Ilian Church. I have heard that your father recently went missing for a few days.”

“Oh,” she exhaled, relaxing upon seeing Heinwald in his uniform, “Would you care to speak with him?”

“We would actually rather talk to you, madam,” Heinwald requested, “May we come in?”

“O-of course,” she replied.

Heinwald and Curran entered the cottage, sitting down at the dining table across from the woman. The home was nothing special, its furniture scarce and worn down, but it seemed good enough for the family living there.

“Now miss,” Heinwald began, “Would you care to tell me when your father first went missing?”

“Oh, of course,” she replied, “It was a few days ago. He went out hunting alone in the forest. Even though his health has been declining as he ages, he still insists on going out to procure meat for us. Typically, he leaves at dawn and returns at sundown, but…”

“He went missing for several days,” Curran interrupted.

“Yes,” she responded, “After the first day passed, I immediately began to fear for the worst; that he had been gored by a boar or tripped on a branch and fell on his own hunting ax. So I gathered my brothers and we searched the forest for him, yet we could not find his body, or any of his belongings for that matter.”

“Go on,” Heinwald urged

“That’s when I began to think he had gone missing,” the woman explained, “Father would never abandon his family, so I assumed that someone had taken him. My brothers and I spent the next few days looking for him and his potential kidnapper, but we could not find a single clue on his whereabouts. By the third day, I was prepared to file a missing persons report with the Church, but as soon as I had gotten the paperwork and returned home to fill it out, I found Father back at home in the kitchen. He was skinning and cleaning a dead boar.”

“Were there any signs of injury on him?” Heinwald inquired.

“Quite the opposite. He appeared as the picture of health,” she answered, “As soon as I saw him, I ran into his arms crying. I asked him where he had been and he replied that he had only been out in the forest for a few hours. He wouldn’t believe me when I told him that he had been missing for three days.”

“Ugh, this is getting’ us nowhere!” Curran complained, “She’s just tellin’ us stuff we already knew about the victims…”

“Victims?” she wondered.

“Pay my partner no mind,” Heinwald shushed, “Other than his memory loss, did you notice anything else that was odd about him? Any changes in behavior?”

“Now that you mention it…” the woman thought, “Father always had a bad back. He would often complain about it throughout the day, yet after returning he didn’t so much as make a peep about it. He also began mixing up my brothers’ names and forgetting other details about our family. But what I found the most odd happened last night. I woke up in the middle of the night to get some water, when I heard father’s voice out in the field. I peeked out the window, only to see him staring up at the moon, muttering a weird incantation in a language I knew not of…”

Heinwald’s eyes widened.

“A weird incantation?” he replied, “Do you recall what it sounded like?”

“I… I do not think I could even repeat it for myself,” she replied, “The language was one I had never even heard before…”

“Miss, my next question may seem a bit weird, but it is vital to our investigation,” Heinwald confessed, blushing, “Have you seen your father without his shirt on since he returned from his disappearance.”

“Well, that is a rather odd question…” she replied, “I have not. Why do you ask?”

“Miss, may I see your father?” Heinwald urged.

“I…” the woman stuttered, “I will go fetch him.”

The woman stood up from the table, walking into the next room over. Curran leaned back in his chair, completely lost on the lead Heinwald had clearly found.

“Why do you wanna see some old codger shirtless,” Curran teased, “Unless older guys are your type.”

“Now isn’t the time for that Curran,” Heinwald hissed, “I have a theory on this case. Up until now, I felt that there was no connection between our victims. All had gone missing at different times in different locations. All were of different ages, genders, and social standing. The only thread of similarity was their memory loss. However, I feel I might have figured out part of our culprit’s motive.”

The woman returned into the living room, guiding her elderly father out by the arm. He seemed like a perfectly normal old man, smiling gently at the presence of the Inquisitor.

“I am told you wanted to see me,” he said, “What can I do to assist you sonny?”

“Well kind sir,” Heinwald began, “I was told that the chronic pain in your back recently healed. Would you mind if I took a look? I happen to be well versed in healing arts myself.”

“Oh ho,” the old man chuckled, “That won’t be necessary. I don’t know how it healed, but I won’t look a gift horse in the mouth. You needn’t trouble yourself.”

_“Curran,”_ Heinwald whispered, _“Get ready to hold him down at my signal.”_

Curran nodded suspiciously. He had no idea what was going on.

“No sir,” Heinwald insisted, “I must take a look at your back.”

The old man’s posture shifted from hunching to upright, his face contorting in rage.

“I cannot allow you to do that,” he said, his voice deeper and gruffer.

“CURRAN! NOW!” Heinwald ordered.

The woman shrieked as Curran leapt at her father, grappling with him. The old man intercepted Curran’s blow, clenching down on his fist with enough force to nearly break it.

“Damn,” Curran cursed, “What kind of old man are you?”

“I cannot allow you,” the old man repeated.

Curran gritted his teeth through the pain, gathering his strength to overpower the old man. He pushed him to the ground, holding him down as he squirmed. The man’s daughter fell back in horror, unsure of what had possessed her father to give him such strength.

“What…” she stammered, “What’s going on here?”

Heinwald approached the elderly man, lifting up the back of his shirt as he struggled to escape Curran’s grasp.

“Just as I suspected,” Heinwald said.

Carved into the flesh of the man’s back was a magic circle. It pulsed and throbbed, glowing red in the darkness of the cottage.

“What… what is that on father’s back?” the woman yelped.

“Hell, I’d like to know that myself,” Curran grunted, fighting against the squirming man.

Heinwald didn’t reply. Instead, he put his hand on the man’s back, muttering a spell under his breath. His hand began to glow as he channeled healing mana into the wound on the man’s back, the flesh around the magic circle revitalizing. The man stopped struggling, his strength waning to that of before as the magic circle vanished. Heinwald pulled his hand away, wiping his brow.

“You may release him, Curran,” Heinwald said, “But gently. He has been through a lot.”

“Would you mind explaining what is going on, Inquisitor?” the daughter asked, “What happened to my father.”

“Perhaps it would be better for your father to tell you that himself,” Heinwald replied, bending down to assist the elderly man, “Sir, are you well?”

“Oh my back…” the man moaned, “Wait… who are you? Leila, what are these strange men doing in our house?”

“They’re from the Inquisition,” Leila replied, “They came to ask about your disappearance father.”

“My disappearance…” the man recalled.

Suddenly, color drained from his face. He wretched onto the floor, his body going into shock as he recalled what happened during the three days he had been missing.

“They… they took my soul…” he whimpered, “Someone else was in my body… they… they were going to devour my soul…”

“Father, what do you mean?” Leila wondered, concerned for her father.

“Those who kidnapped you,” Heinwald said, “They carved something onto your back, didn’t they.”

“They tortured me… The men in black hoods…” he sputtered, “They carved my soul out of my body and put someone else’s inside of me…”

“Calm down gramps,” Curran grunted, “Who were these men in black hoods? Where did they take you?”

“That’s enough, Curran,” Heinwald ordered, “This man has been through enough. He must rest and recover.”

Heinwald turned to the daughter, her face pale with shock and confusion.

“Leila, was it?” Heinwald said, “Take care of your father. Make sure he doesn’t go outside for the next few days and keep him in bed. If the wound reopens, those who possessed him could find a way to re-enter his body.”

“I…” Leila stammered, “O-ok…”

“Curran,” Heinwald ordered, “We are to return to the Church at once. I must consult our archives.”

Curran clicked his tongue in irritation, reluctantly following Heinwald out of the cottage. As soon as they got outside, Curran pressed Heinwald into the wall of the house’s exterior, blocking his exits with his muscular arms. Heinwald shrunk back nervously as Curran frowned angrily at him.

“Tell me what’s going on, now!” Curran demanded, “You are not going to leave me out of the loop.”

“It’s…” Heinwald stammered, “It’s too complicated for you to understand. I only had an inkling because I studied magecraft for years…”

Curran closed the distance between their faces. Heinwald swallowed hard, fearing that Curran would eat him alive.

“Do you think I’m stupid?” Curran growled, “You’re going to tell me what we’re up against now or I’ll snap your neck and solve this case on my own.”

Heinwald froze as he felt Curran’s hand grip at his throat. Curran wasn’t joking.

“I…” Heinwald choked, “I read about ancient societies of mages who experimented with bodily possession. They… they could transfer their souls to another person’s body if they marked them with a cursed dagger called a Carbuncle.”

“So one of these societies is behind the kidnappings?”

“I… I don’t know… It could be a cult trying to revive that ancient power… It could be a mage who is using the old ways for personal gain… I… I still have so much to learn about this case…”

Heinwald inhaled sharply as Curran let go of his throat.

“You’re fucking useless…” Curran cursed, “Actin’ like you’re better than me when you couldn’t even find the damn motive you were so obsessed with!”

“The… the investigation has only begun…” Heinwald sputtered, “We still made a step in the right direction.”

“I don’t give a fuck what you think, kitten,” Curran snapped, “Tonight, you are going to meet me in front of the Church. 10PM. Don’t be late. We’re going to try things my way whether you like it or not.”

Before Heinwald could object, Curran stormed off to the Church. Heinwald slunk down against the cottage, his knees hitting the ground as he lost all of the strength in his legs. He could still feel the phantom pain of Curran’s arms around his neck, that red-hot grip that sent him into fight or flight. Yet, along with the adrenaline, the fear that Curran could kill him, Heinwald felt something else; an odd sensation that he had never encountered before. It was terrifying, yet thrilling. Hesitantly, he reached up to that still throbbing spot on his neck, ghosting his fingers over the grip marks that Curran has left. A shiver went up his spine at the touch, making him immediately withdraw his hand.

“Curran…” he mumbled, “Is truly terrifying…”


	4. Chapter 4

Heinwald shivered in the brisk night air outside of the church. He rubbed his hands together, blowing on them in a feeble attempt to stay warm as he looked around for his partner.

“Well, looks like you’re here early,” a gruff voice said.

Heinwald swallowed hard as Curran approached him, getting far too close to him for comfort.

“You…” he stammered, “You said I mustn’t be late…”

Heinwald winced as Curran raised his hand to him, yet he was not greeted with a sharp blow or tight grip. Instead he felt his fingers tangle into his long, black hair, rubbing and caressing his scalp. Heinwald closed his eyes, involuntarily leaning into Curran’s touch.

“Well, looks like my feisty little kitten can be tamed after all,” Curran chuckled.

Heinwald pulled away, blush creeping across his cheeks.

“Please do not call me ‘kitten’,” he sighed, “I find it degrading.”

“Not so nice being talked down to, huh,” Curran growled, “Now, let’s get going.”

“To a pub, I assume?”

“Well, somethin’ like that. Follow me, partner.”

Curran grabbed his hand, leading Heinwald down the cobblestone streets. While the Church town was so lively and welcoming in the daytime, at night it felt eery, as the underbelly of society emerged from hiding to revel without repercussion. Heinwald was an Inquisitor, one who kept the peace of Grastaea through the word of the Goddess. Why then did he feel like prey being lead to slaughter? Curran suddenly stopped, making Heinwald bump into his back.

“Just remembered something,” he said, turning around.

Curran removed his cloak from his shoulders, draping it over Heinwald and tying it closed.

“They won’t be too happy if I brought an Inquisitor with me,” Curran said, “Keep this on. It’ll cover up your uniform.”

“Th-thanks for looking out for me,” Heinwald whimpered.

“Don’t think too highly of yourself. I don’t want my membership to be revoked for selling the staff out to the fuzz.”

“Where exactly are we going, Curran?”

Curran paused.

“You can’t tell no one at the Church,” he threatened, “We’re gonna stop by the Black Market.”

“The… the Black Market?” Heinwald yelped, “Are you mad? That place is dangerous! We could be risking our jobs if…”

“Think of it as a reconnaissance mission. You said somethin’ about a cursed dagger called a Kerfuffle right?”

“It’s called a _Carbuncle…”_

“Same difference… I just figured that kinda shit ain’t gonna be sold by any ol’ local blacksmith. If we wanna find someone selling it, we gotta check out the Black Market.”

“I see. If we find someone selling the dagger, we can find out who purchased it from them…”

“And find our perp. You catch on pretty fast.”

Heinwald was shocked. Why didn’t he think of that himself? Curran was surprisingly clever.

“I’m impressed Curran,” Heinwald praised.

“Heh,” Curran scoffed, “Save your flattery kitten. If you wanna solve cases like these, you gotta stop thinkin’ like an Inquisitor and start thinkin’ like a criminal.”

The pair soon approached a dark alleyway. Heinwald’s grip on Curran’s hand tightened. The stench of blood, piss, and vomit violated his nose. Women stood on street corners, flashing their cleavage to sell their bodies to strangers and thieves lurked amongst the shadows. Out of the corner of his eye, Heinwald could have sworn he saw a man dumping a body.

“Ya scared?” Curran teased.

“I… I am not scared…” Heinwald fibbed, “Let’s just hurry up to the Black Market already…”

“Keep your voice down. The existence of this market has to stay in the shadows. Consider yourself fortunate that they trust me enough to let me in.”

Curran let go of Heinwald’s hand, approaching the brick wall on the west side of the alleyway. He carefully examined the individual bricks before knocking on a specific, slightly discolored one. The brick pulled inward and a pair of eyes gazed out at Curran.

“Cougar?” the voice behind the wall questioned, “Who ya got with ya?”

“That’s just my partner,” Curran replied, “He’s a harmless little kitten. Ya don’t gotta worry about him blabbin’ to no one.”

Heinwald jumped back as the brick wall separated, revealing a sconce lit stairwell. The man behind it towered at nearly 7 feet tall and was pure muscle, yet Curran didn’t seem intimidated by him in the slightest.

“You can go on ahead,” the man grunted, “Just make sure to keep your bitch in line. He don’t seem like our kind.”

_“Bitch?”_ Heinwald thought, taken slightly aback.

“Of course, Gregor,” Curran replied, “Kitten, we’re going.”

“O-ok…” Heinwald replied, running to catch up with Curran.

He shivered as he passed by the bouncer Gregor, as if the brute of a man was staring into his soul. Heinwald immediately grabbed back onto Curran’s hand as they ascended the staircase, partially because his poor vision did not suit him well in this dark environment, partially because he felt threatened just by being here.

“Curran,” he piped out, “What did he mean by calling me your ‘bitch’?”

“Probably cuz I called you my partner,” Curran confessed nonchalantly, “Thought it would be best to let them interpret it that way.”

Color drained from Heinwald’s face.

“So…” Heinwald choked, “They think that I’m… that we’ve…”

“Oh yeah,” Curran teased, “Forgot you Church folks aren’t too fond of gay guys. You can unclench, kitten. I just said it to get you through the door. I’m not after your scrawny ass.”

“Thank goodness,” Heinwald sighed.

Curran clicked his tongue, squeezing Heinwald’s hand even tighter as they reached the top of the staircase. He pushed aside the beaded curtain that hung from the doorway to reveal a bazaar filled with people buying and selling illegal goods. Anything from drugs to dragon eggs to human body parts, this market was filled to the brim with items whose sale was outlawed by the Church.

“So this is the Black Market…” Heinwald muttered, disgust lingering in his voice.

“Don’t get too distracted,” Curran ordered, “I know you Inquisitors are all about justice and you probably wanna arrest every single one of the merchants here, but I promise you if you even think about apprehending anyone other than our target I will not hesitate to kill you.”

“Understood…”

“Now, let’s start lookin’ for that… whatever it’s called… Garfuckle?”

“It’s a _Carbuncle!_”

Curran paid no mind to Heinwald’s correction and began looking around the stalls, examining the wares for daggers. Heinwald joined in, scouring over the grotesque goods and attempting to avoid eye contact with the shady merchants and clientele. From what he had read, the Carbuncle was a small, obsidian dagger, no more than a foot in length from hilt to blade. Its blade was supposedly as thin as a sheet of parchment, yet it was surprisingly just as sturdy as it was precise. The dagger was made to carve, so the blade was razor sharp to the tip and enchanted to never dull. It was supposedly a beautiful weapon, despite it being the key for a cursed ritual.

As they passed booths, Curran would call Heinwald over with a simple flick of his wrist, having him check the weapons he found to see if it could be considered a Carbuncle. Alas most of the weapons didn’t even come close to fitting the description. Just when Heinwald feared they had ventured here for naught, he spotted a merchant near the back of the bazaar peddling weapons out of dilapidated baskets. He looked different from the rest of the merchants. Instead of wearing garb that covered his face to preserve his identity, he wore raggedy, stained robes with nothing covering his ratted mop of hair. If he weren’t holding up his goods to advertise them, Heinwald would have easily mistaken him for a bum who happened to wander in when no one else noticed.

Cautiously, Heinwald approached the man, who immediately beamed from ear to ear upon seeing a potential client.

“Finally! A customer!” he beamed, “Welcome to Mo’s Miscellany Emporium! If you want it, we got it!”

Mo offered a grimy hand out to Heinwald. Mud and other unknown fluids were caked into it and as he grinned to make Heinwald’s acquaintance, Heinwald noticed the man had several teeth missing. Reluctantly, he shook his hand, cringing as his pristine palm came in contact with the uncomfortable moistness of Mo’s.

“Shucks,” Mo smiled, “No one ever comes ta my shop. Lemme know if I can getcha anything!”

“O-of course, Mr. Mo…” Heinwald grimaced, wiping his hand off on the cloak Curran had loaned him, “Might I see your selection of weaponry?”

“Weapons… weapons…” Mo repeated to himself as he scrambled through his wares.

There seemed to be no organization to Mo’s storefront whatsoever. Everything was mixed together, thrown about with no rhyme or reason to it. Mo humbly rubbed the back of his neck as he continued to toss things aside.

“Well, I know I got ‘em” Mo confessed, “But they might be mixed in with all my other thingamajigs. If ya wanna look fer it yerself I’ll give ya a discount!”

“Well, I suppose I must,” Heinwald sighed.

He knelt down onto the ground, carefully pulling out the various items Mo had stored away and organizing them. Mo gaped at his new customer. No one had ever cared enough to even come to his stall before, let alone organize the inventory in order to get what he wanted.

“Ya must either be new around these parts or real desperate,” Mo said.

“How can you tell?” Heinwald wondered, continuing his search.

“Well, most people just walk right by me. I ain’t got no fancy display cases like thems other rich merchants. I’m justa simple guy tryna make some coin.”

Heinwald winced as he pulled out more junk from Mo’s baskets.

“Your wares certainly are… interesting,” he gagged.

“I got everythin!” Mo said proudly, “Folks round here just don’t want Miscellany I guess.”

“Perhaps if you organized like with like, others might want to buy from you. You definitely have some… gems in your collection.”

“Aww, ya think so? Yer awful kind, you really must be new ‘round here! Say, what’s yer name, mister?”

“Heinwald.”

“Hoooo-wee. That sounds like a noble name is I ever heard one. Usually nobles just send their servants here to do the dirty work for ‘em. I can ‘preciate a guy willin’ to get his hands dirty on his own. And don’t worry. I won’t tell no one ‘bout you bein’ here Mistah Heinwald sir!”

“That is… much appreciated Mo…”

Suddenly Heinwald froze. At the bottom of one of Mo’s baskets shone a familiar black glint. He pulled everything else out, wanting to confirm with his own eyes what he saw. As soon as everything else was cleared away, there was no denying it. It was a Carbuncle. Heinwald examined the knife closely, enchanted by its sleek design and feather like weight.

“See ya like that thar knife huh?” Mo said, “That things great fer cuttin’ tomaters!”

“Pardon me Mo,” Heinwald inquired, “If you don’t mind me asking, where did you find this knife?”

“Huh… Well I usually just pick stuff up that looks like it’d sell. Can’t say fer sure where I got it… Of course, my memory might be jogged if ya purchased it.”

“Damn. Can’t find anything…” Curran cursed, approaching Heinwald, “How’s the search goin’ for you kitten?”

Mo shook from head to toe at the sight of Curran, squealing like a hog as Curran glared at him.

“The Cougar?” he exclaimed, “What… what you doin’ here?”

Curran furrowed his brow and snarled, staring daggers at Mo.

“Mo…” he growled, “So you’ve decided to join the Black Market huh? Maybe then you’ll be able to pay me back for all those ales you left on my tab.”

Mo plopped down to the ground, kneeling and pressing his forehead into the floor as if begging for his life.

“I… I’m sorry Mistah Cougar!” he pleaded, “I… I didn’t know that Mistah Heinwald here was yer friend. I wasn’t tryna scam him! Honest!”

“You’re wasting your time at this clown’s stand, kitten,” Curran spat, “He’s nothing more than garbage, just like his goods.”

“But Mistah Cougar! Looks like yer friend found somethin’ he likes!” Mo insisted

“He’s telling the truth, Curran,” Heinwald assured, “Amidst his sea of trash I found this.”

Heinwald presented the thin dagger to Curran, nodding to confirm its authenticity.

“This is a genuine Carbuncle,” Heinwald informed, “I can even feel the pure magical energy pulsing from it.”

“Well I’ll be damned…” Curran scoffed, “How’d someone like you manage to get your hands on somethin’ like this Mo?”

Mo backed up, colliding with the wall behind him as he trembled at Curran’s presence.

“Who did you steal this from, Mo?” Curran threatened, “Tell me the truth and your hands will still be connected to your arms!”

“I didn’t steal it from no one!” Mo squealed in fear, “I… I just found it… It was on the ground and no one seemed to be lookin’ for it…”

“Where did you find it then, Mo?”

“It was by a smithy in the red light district! Never got the smith’s name, but I always saw ‘im goin’ into them bars. I think he musta dropped it on his way there from work.”

“Well whadya know. Guess you can be useful. Kitten, leave this clown be. We’re gettin’ outta here.”

“Are… aren’tcha gonna pay for the…”

“And you’re gonna give us the dagger. For free.”

“But I can’t afford to…”

Curran glared at Mo, making the man stumble off of his feet. Heinwald was in awe. He could not believe that Curran had managed to intimidate so much information out of a seemingly useless source. Curran would be a wonderful asset for Good Inquisitor/Bad Inquisitor interrogations in the future, as Heinwald believed Curran could make even the most hardened criminals talk. Heinwald felt like his heart had stopped simply by being in the presence of Curran’s interrogation. Whether it was from fear or admiration he didn’t know, but at the very least they had gotten a new lead on who had provided their perpetrator with their weaponry.

“Keep starin’ at me like that an’ I’d think you gotta crush on me, kitten,” Curran teased.

“I…” Heinwald stuttered, blush painting his cheeks as soon as he realized what he had done, “I wasn’t staring at you… I was just lost in thought.”

“Heh, whatever you say kitten… Now grab your Marshuckle and let’s get out of here.”

“Understood.”

Heinwald grabbed the dagger from the basket, tucking it under his cloak for safe-keeping, before following Curran out of the market and back into the alleyway.

“Curran,” Heinwald wondered, attempting to make conversation as they returned to the Church, “Are you familiar with this red light district?”

“Familiar with it?” Curran chuckled, “I practically live there. But of course someone like you would have no idea what it is. You’ll be in for quite the surprise when we go to investigate it tomorrow night.”

“Shall we meet up at the Church then?”

“Nah. I was riskin’ it a bit too much with your last minute disguise tonight. I’ll have something that you’ll actually need to change into tomorrow and I doubt you’d want your Inquisitor buds seeing you in it.”

Heinwald swallowed hard. What could Curran possibly want to disguise him in?

“So…” Heinwald choked, “Where are we to meet?”

“Your place,” Curran replied.

Heinwald froze. He was hoping Curran wasn’t going to suggest that. His home was filled with invaluable belongings and he would have to make sure his servants were on high alert so Curran wouldn’t steal anything.

“Must… must we meet at my abode?” Heinwald sighed.

“Unless ya wanna meet at a hotel,” Curran suggested, “And I seriously doubt you’re gonna want to deal with the implications of that.”

Heinwald grimaced as he remembered what the doorman to the Black Market thought of him simply by Curran calling him his “partner.” If he were to enter and leave a hotel with Curran, minutes later in a new outfit no less, his reputation would be in shambles with the Church.

“I…” Heinwald stammered, “I’ll give you my address at the Church tomorrow. My servants will let you in…”

“Great,” Curran replied, “I’ll be there ‘round 7 PM. See ya then, kitten.”

Heinwald sighed. It seemed Curran was getting more comfortable around him, if only slightly. Nonetheless, he still felt like he was constantly in danger around him, not necessarily at the threat of death or injury, but at his new growing admiration for Curran. He feared what would happen if they got close, if they became friends. What would his fellow Inquisitors think? Would Ilia forgive him for fraternizing with someone whose actions towed the lines between law and heresy? He could already feel himself being torn in two, and there was no going back.


	5. Chapter 5

Curran looked down at the sheet of parchment that Heinwald had given him, double-checking to ensure he made it to the correct address. He knew Heinwald was a noble, but he had no idea his manor was this big. His estate was large enough to house the whole Inquisition and then some! He raised his fist to the door, pulling on the wrought iron knockers and banging them into the polished mahogany beneath them. The door creaked open, a short maid answering the door. Though she attempted to maintain her composure, Curran could sense that she was afraid of him.

“Ah, you must be Sir Curran,” she said softly, “I shall inform Lord Heinwald of your arrival. Please, make yourself at home. If you need anything, feel free to ask me or any of the other servants.”

As the maid bowed and retreated upstairs to fetch Heinwald, Curran looked around the manor. It was spacious with vaulted ceilings and velvet curtains. Tapestries and paintings lined the walls and rare antiques were displayed on pedestals throughout the living room and hallways. Curran stopped in front of one of the paintings, carefully examining the people in the portrait. Heinwald couldn’t have been more than ten years old in this photo, yet he still had the same long black hair and spectacles. Standing with him in the portrait were a tall man with similar black hair and a well-maintained beard and moustache, a woman with the same crimson eyes whose chocolate brown hair was tied back into a neat bun, and a beautiful girl who dotingly hung her arms over Heinwald’s shoulder.

“Admiring my family portrait, Curran?” Heinwald wondered.

Curran turned around to see Heinwald standing behind him. Instead of his usual Inquisitor uniform, Heinwald wore embroidered robes, complete with a cravat and brooch. It felt odd seeing him in such fancy noble attire, but Curran had to admit that it did compliment his appearance.

“You were a cute kid,” Curran chuckled, “What the hell happened?”

“Very funny,” Heinwald sighed, “Now do you have that disguise for me?”

“Yeah, got it right in here,” Curran replied, slapping his satchel.

He pulled a parchment wrapped package out of his leather sidebag, handing it to Heinwald.

“Picked out somethin’ that would look nice on you,” Curran smirked.

“How it looks on me doesn’t matter. So long as I can blend in with the crowd in the red light district I could be wearing a dragon suit for all I care…” Heinwald exhaled, “Now if you’ll excuse me.”

Heinwald turned around, ascending the stairs to go to his room. Curran followed close behind him, only to be stopped at Heinwald’s door.

“Can’t I come in?” Curran teased.

“I would like some privacy while I change, Curran,” Heinwald hissed.

“We’re both guys, I don’t see why it would be an issue…”

“Please just wait outside my room. I will call you if I need assistance.”

Heinwald slammed the door shut, locking it behind him to ensure Curran wouldn’t follow him in. Though Curran insisted that he wouldn’t mind, Heinwald hated the thought of others seeing him partially nude. His body was slender and sleek, but he despised how he looked. He always wished he could have had a bit more muscle definition like his father, but he was unfortunately cursed with the effeminate figure of his mother. It had been a problem since his youth, his fast growing hair not helping, as people often mistook him for a woman from behind. Fortunately at least his voice had deepened enough to give him a slight air of masculinity.

He set the parcel down on his bed, stripping off his robes and unbuttoning his shirt until he was in nothing but his smallclothes. Heinwald untied the twine around the parcel, unraveling the parchment to retrieve the clothes from within. They were folded neatly, but Heinwald was still somewhat baffled at the choice of disguise. There was so little fabric in the pile of clothes that he was convinced that Curran had forgotten to pack some of it. He shook his head, pulling out pieces of the disguise and laying them on the bed before beginning to dress.

He began with the top. It appeared to be nothing more than a small tube of stretchy, violet fabric, but Heinwald assumed it was meant to be worn as an undershirt. Heinwald slipped it over his head, the fabric clinging to his chest like a second layer of skin. He was certain that Curran had gotten an undershirt that was a size or two too small, as it didn’t even cover his belly button. Next came the coat. While it looked opaque in the parcel, it became more and more transparent as Heinwald unfolded it. Ultimately, it turned out to be nothing more than black lace, embroidered with roses. The coat did little for protection from the wind and cold and Heinwald could see his skin clearly under the skin-tight lace.

“What a tacky outfit…” he spat.

He sighed. Though he felt the outfit was in poor taste thus far, he had said that he would wear any disguise that would help him blend in. Heinwald swallowed his pride and continued pulling out more pieces of clothing to dress in. His stomach turned as he pulled out the next piece. It appeared to be undergarments, yet they did little for covering anything. A large hole was intentionally cut in the back. If he wore this, his ass would be completely exposed. He tossed the pair of undergarments aside. Certainly Curran had only included those as a joke. Undergarments wouldn’t matter under his disguise after all.

Heinwald continued dressing, slipping on the next article of clothing. He slipped into what he initially believed were a pair of shorts, only to discover that it was in fact a short skirt. It hugged his hips so tightly that he could see the outlines of his own underwear underneath. Perhaps that was why the small pair was included in the disguise. He shook his head. Though he thought he looked foolish already, he would look even worse if people could see his smallclothes through his clothes. Reluctantly, he slipped out of his underwear, tugging on the ones that Curran had included. Though the skirt now lay much more naturally on his body, he still didn’t like the idea of his ass hanging out.

There were only two pieces of the outfit left, a lacy garterbelt and a pair of stockings. He slid the belt up his hips, dipping the garters underneath the skirt to hook into the stockings. Initially he assumed that their purpose was to make the stockings appear as leggings, but he could still see a small gap of skin between the hem of the skirt and the end of the stockings. Heinwald took a deep breath in before closing his eyes and turning around to look at himself in the mirror. When he opened his eyes, his jaw dropped. He thought that the outfit looked ridiculous on its own, but seeing it on himself was just absurd. He gritted his teeth in rage, storming over to his door and pulling it open.

“CURRAN!” he shouted.

“Oh, you done getting dressed, kitten?” Curran asked.

Heinwald scowled pulling Curran into the room as not to risk his servants seeing him in such a revealing getup.

“What the hell is the meaning of this?” Heinwald snapped.

Curran whistled as he eyed Heinwald from head to toe. His Inquisitor outfit never did him justice. In this outfit, Heinwald’s svelte waist, long legs, and curvaceous hips were on perfect display.

“I did good,” Curran praised, “This is a nice look on you.”

“Are… are you mocking me?” Heinwald yelled, “I look like a whore!”

“Well, I don’t know what to tell ya kitten. That’s how a lot of guys dress in the red light district.”

“Well then where’s your disguise? Unless you want to borrow the one you so generously got for me!”

Curran ran his fingers through his goatee.

“Allow me to rephrase that,” Curran corrected, “This is how a lot of guys with your figure dress in the red light district.”

“What do you mean by guys with my figure?” Heinwald hissed.

“Twinks, kitten.”

Heinwald was taken aback.

“You are mocking me!” Heinwald exclaimed, “I know I may not be the most muscular but I won’t take being insulted like this.”

“Would you prefer a dragon suit then?” Curran sneered, “You said you’d wear any disguise if it helped you blend in. And if it’s any consolation, it makes you look really hot.”

“I DON’T WANT TO BE CONSIDERED HOT BY MEN!”

“Heh, you a virgin or something?”

Heinwald froze. Curran slowly approached him, backing him up until he fell onto his bed. Curran hovered over him, blocking him off and pushing him into the sheets. Heinwald’s heart dropped to his stomach.

“I…” he stammered, “That’s none of your business.”

“You know kitten, you may get lucky and lose your virginity tonight,” Curran growled.

Heinwald shivered. His hair stood on end. Curran was too close. Was he threatening him? Was he going to assault him in his own bed? Heinwald couldn’t move a muscle. He was horrified, yet underneath his terror, he felt heat pouring to his face and his groin.

“I…” Heinwald stuttered, “I am Inquisitor. I must remain chaste by order of the Church.”

“Heh, and how many of your Church buddies do you think follow that rule?” Curran scoffed, “There ain’t nothin’ sinful about having a good time.”

Heinwald squinted his eyes shut, preparing for the worst. But instead, he only felt Curran’s fingers slide into his hair, intertwining between his silken locks.

“We need to do somethin’ bout your hairstyle though,” Curran commented, “The low ponytail kinda takes away from the rest of the outfit. Sit up kitten.”

He felt Curran’s presence shift from on top of him to sitting beside him. Hesitantly, Heinwald opened his eyes, sitting up on the bed. Curran ran his fingers down Heinwald’s scalp to the violet ribbon tying his hair back. Heinwald couldn’t help but relax when Curran touched his hair. It felt oddly intimate. Curran untied the ribbon, letting his wavy black locks cascade down his back.

“That’s much better,” Curran praised, “You look nice with your hair down.”

“It… it doesn’t make me look like a girl?” Heinwald worried, “I used to be teased for it when I was younger.”

“They were probably just jealous of how cute you are.”

Heinwald blushed. It felt nice being called cute over something he was normally self-conscious of. He balled his palms into fists. Having Curran so close to him on his bed sent indecent thoughts flooding into his head. Up until now, he was certain that he would never be attracted to another man, yet a part of him wouldn’t mind if Curran continued praising him, pushing him into the bed and…

“Well, let’s get going, kitten,” Curran said, standing up from the bed.

“Oh…” Heinwald replied, “Of course…”

Heinwald grabbed Curran’s hand, following him out of the room and downstairs. Though he got a few double takes from his servants, they were wise enough to not comment on the appearance of their master. Heinwald shivered as he stepped outside, the chill of the night air only more apparent due to his lack of covering clothing.

“You alright kitten?” Curran asked as they proceeded to the red light district.

“It’s cold…” Heinwald winced.

Curran clicked his tongue. Suddenly Heinwald felt warm, heavy fabric heaved over his shoulders.

“You can wear my jacket for now,” Curran offered, “Don’t want ya catchin’ a cold.”

Heinwald drowned in the thick fabric of Curran’s coat. He never realized how much broader Curran’s shoulders and chest were in comparison to his. The coat was several sizes too big for him and a peculiar musk lingered on it, but Heinwald didn’t mind. It was warm. It was comfortable. It smelled like Curran. Soon enough they reached the red light district. To Heinwald’s surprise, his outfit was surprisingly modest in comparison to others. There were men that were practically nude walking around, making Heinwald blush in embarrassment.

“I suppose you weren’t lying about the common attire in this district,” Heinwald grimaced.

“Yeah. This place is filled with gay bars,” Curran confessed, “So of course lots of lonely and horny guys come here lookin’ for cuties or hunks to spend the night with.”

“Mo said that blacksmith who he took the dagger from came here often. Do you think he’s…”

“Gay? Most likely.”

Heinwald swallowed hard. As they walked through the streets of the district he could feel the piercing gazes of other men. He pulled down his skirt, attempting to cover his ass from the wandering eyes of the horny men prowling the area.

“You scared kitten?” Curran wondered.

“So many people are staring at my butt…” Heinwald whispered.

“Just try to ignore them. If anyone gets too close to you, just call for me. I’d love to see a stuck up virgin like you loosen up a bit, but not if it’s against your will. Rape don’t sit right with me…”

“Appreciated…”

“By the way, another word of warning. Don’t accept drinks from people ya don’t know. It could be drugged.”

Heinwald squeezed Curran’s hand as they approached a shady looking pub. A wooden placard hung above the door, a picture of a rooster and a pint of ale surrounding the name of the establishment: “The Angry Cock.”

“Well, here we are,” Curran said, “This is the most popular gay bar in these parts. We can start searchin’ here.”

“Have you been here before?” Heinwald wondered.

“Once or twice, for a few hook ups.”

Curran opened the door to the pub, politely showing Heinwald inside and taking his coat. Heinwald froze in place when he saw the interior. The bar was filled to the brim with men, drinking, dancing, and flirting with each other. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw multiple couples grinding on each other, quickly averting his gaze to give them some “privacy.”

“The Cock’s as lively as ever,” Curran commented, “Now, let’s start lookin’ for our guy.”

Before Curran could walk away, Heinwald grabbed onto his arm.

“I… I don’t want to be alone in here,” Heinwald confessed.

“I s’pose I could understand your paranoia,” Curran replied, “With how cute you look most guys in here can’t help but stare.”

Heinwald cringed, pulling himself closer to Curran as a safety blanket. Curran smirked. He didn’t mind seeing his partner like this, clinging to him in such a slutty outfit. Curran would be lying if he didn’t say that Heinwald was his type, but even with his questionable morals, he would never force himself on someone who didn’t want him. He brought him over to the bar, calling over the bartender. He was a large, muscular man with tanned skin. Though his head was completely bald, he still had a bushy black beard sprouting from his chin.

“Been a while, Cougar,” he smirked at Curran.

“Long time no see Ralph,” Curran chuckled, “Can I get my usual?”

“Of course.”

Ralph’s gaze immediately shifted to Heinwald, who in turn cowered behind Curran.

“Your friend’s pretty cute,” Ralph growled, “Haven’t seen him around here before. Can I get you something to drink gorgeous?”

“I… umm…” Heinwald stammered.

“Go easy on him Ralph, he just came out,” Curran fibbed, “Kitten here is still a little bit shy around other men.”

“Is that so? Then I gotta give him a drink on the house,” Ralph beamed, “A nice warm welcome to our club.”

“Cu-“ Heinwald stuttered, remembering that it was probably best to address Curran by his nickname, “Cougar told me not to drink anything…”

“You can trust Ralph, kitten,” Curran assured, “And if you’re all that worried I’ll test it for you before you drink it.”

“Any kind of drinks you like?” Ralph asked, pouring a fresh flagon of ale for Curran.

“Umm…” Heinwald thought, “Do you have milkshakes?”

“Seriously kitten?” Curran cackled.

“He has a sweet tooth. That’s so cute,” Ralph cooed, “Don’t let Cougar tease you. I’ll make you something nice and sweet.”

As Ralph began making Heinwald’s drink, Curran pulled out his coin purse, sliding a generous handful of rupies to him.

“Ordering a side of information with your drink too?” he said gruffly to Curran.

“Money talks Ralph,” Curran replied, “Kitten and I are lookin’ for someone. You wouldn’t happen to know the blacksmith who made this, would you?”

Curran pulled the Carbuncle out of his satchel, handing it to Ralph discreetly. Ralph slid it under the counter to hide it from the discerning eyes of his patrons, examining it carefully.

“Hmm…” he thought, “This looks like the work of ol’ Douglass. He’s the only Blacksmith I know of ‘round these parts that makes magic weapons.”

Ralph poured Heinwald’s drink into a large glass, finishing it off with a dollop of whipped cream, a straw, and a juicy cherry before sliding it down to him. Curran caught it, taking a sip to make sure the drink hadn’t been drugged. He immediately wretched after swallowing, looking as if he were about to vomit.

“Is it drugged?” Heinwald worried.

“Nah it’s safe it just…” he gagged, “It tastes like straight sugar… Fuckin’ disgusting…”

“You just hate anything sweet, Cougar,” Ralph laughed, “At least now we’ve got Kitten here to enjoy my dessert drinks.”

“Heh, looks like your nickname’s stuck,” Curran teased, passing Heinwald his drink.

Heinwald rolled his eyes, “Wonderful…”

Heinwald wrapped his hands around the ice-cold glass, taking a sip of his complimentary drink. His eyes immediately lit up. The milkshake was exquisite. It was smooth and velvety, rich chocolate coating his palate with a tart, cherry aftertaste.

“This is delicious, Ralph,” Heinwald beamed, “It tastes like a black forest cake!”

“Glad I could put a smile on your face,” Ralph grinned, “You looked like you had seen a ghost before. ‘S my job to make all of my customers feel welcome here.”

“You ain’t tryin’ to get in his pants right?” Curran mocked, taking a swig of his ale.

“Well,” Ralph purred, “If he wants me to show him a good time, I’ll gladly take care of him.”

Heinwald blushed as Ralph kissed him gently on the hand. He was flattered, but he still wasn’t too keen on the idea of being held by another man. Curran squinted, balling his fists as he took another sip of his drink.

“Well ain’t you a gentleman,” Curran snapped, “And we ain’t done talkin’ bout that blacksmith yet. With all the rupies I gave ya I’d expect a bit more info.”

“Relax Cougar, I’ll get to that,” Ralph groaned, turning away from Heinwald, “Well, his shop’s not too far from here. Rarely leaves ‘cept for on weekends. I think he should actually be here tonight.”

Ralph peered out into the sea of people dancing and partying, pointing discreetly when he spotted him. Douglass appeared to be in his mid to late 50s, his brown hair graying and his moustache speckled with white hairs. He was fairly tall, and had a bit of a gut, yet his arms looked quite muscular from his years at the forge.

“Does he have a partner?” Curran asked.

“Hasn’t had one in years,” Ralph nodded solemnly, “Ol’ guy might need to lower his standards a bit if he ever wants to get his dick wet again.”

“What’s his type?”

“Far as I know he’s a solid top. You might actually want to keep your Kitten away from him. The guys that I usually see Douglass hittin’ on are cute, submissive bottoms like him.”

_“Submissive bottoms like me?”_ Heinwald scowled, _“I never…”_

“Is that so?” Curran grinned shrewdly, “Hey kitten, I’ve got an important job for you to do.”

“Oh hell no, Cougar,” Ralph threatened, “If you put that poor boy in danger so help me Ilia I will make you wish you hadn’t been born.”

“Don’t worry ‘bout it Ralph,” Curran assured, “Kitten is surprisingly capable. And if you’re really that worried, you can help me look after him.”

“Would you mind filling me in on what you had in mind?” Heinwald asked, fearing the answer.

“Well, you’re gonna help us get some information straight from the horse’s bowels,” Curran smirked.

“I think it’s ‘straight from the horse’s mouth,’ Cougar,” Ralph corrected.

“Gah he knew what I meant,” Curran growled, “Kitten, I’m gonna need you to try and seduce some info outta Douglass.”

Heinwald nearly dropped his drink.

“What?” he replied, shocked, “No way! I refuse! I… what if he tries to…”

“Rape ya?” Curran interrupted, “There’s no way he’s gonna get the chance to do it. I’ll cut his dick of if he so much as lays a finger on you without your permission.”

“Cougar… I know you’ll do anything for your clients…” Ralph fretted, “But dragging your friend into this is an all new low.”

“He’s working with me on this case,” Curran informed, “Kitten here is an Inquisitor.”

“I… I thought you said I shouldn’t tell people about my job around here,” Heinwald flushed.

“No need to worry about that,” Ralph said, “I won’t tell anyone at the Church. Hell I’ve seen tons of Inquisitors come ‘round here before. Even slept with some of them.”

“See,” Curran flaunted, “Told ya your peers didn’t give a shit about that stupid ‘no sex allowed’ rule.”

“Cu-Cougar,” Heinwald said, “Do you promise me that you’ll keep me safe? I’ll do it if we can figure out more about our culprit and their motive, but… It is a bit scary…”

Curran grabbed Heinwald’s hands, staring into his eyes earnestly.

“I promise you Heinwald,” he vowed, “I will not let you get hurt.”

“Curran,” Heinwald blushed, “I’ll… I’ll do it.”

Heinwald knocked back the rest of his milkshake, wiped his mouth, and marched out onto the dance floor.

“Go get ‘em kitten,” Curran said, “And stay safe…”

Ralph leaned over the edge of the counter, sighing happily.

“Oh young love,” he cooed.

“Whatcha talkin’ ‘bout Ralph,”

“I’m talkin’ ‘bout you and your little kitten.”

Curran blushed, taking another large gulp of his ale. Unfortunately, he drank too quickly, making him inhale some of the liquid and fall into a coughing fit.

“The hell are you smoking?” he hacked “And where can I get some of it.”

“So you’re telling me you wouldn’t jump at the chance to sleep with him?” Ralph questioned.

“I mean yeah he’s cute, but I’m not the type for love. Getting attached is the best way to get yourself hurt.”

“You’re so bad at lying Cougar. I can tell you’ve got the hots for this guy. The way you look at him, the way you’re so protective of him. You hate sugar, yet you still drank some of his drink to make sure he was safe.”

“He’s a liability. If he gets hurt it looks bad on me with my client.”

“Then why’d you get so mad when I started flirtin’ with him?”

“Y-you saw that?”

“Checkmate.”

“It’ll only ever be a one sided crush Ralph. Heinwa- kitten is straight… I only brought him here because this is where our target hangs out.”

“What is it with you and fallin’ for straight guys… But are you sure he’s straight? I know your gaydar ain’t the most effective, but I feel like he might feel a little somethin’ for you.”

“Don’t get my hopes up Ralph… I don’t want to suffer again…”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: attempted rape/drugging this chapter

Heinwald squeezed through the sea of people crowding the dance floor, pushing his way through grabbing hands. He could have sworn he felt people touching his ass as he walked by, but he had no time to dwell on that. He needed to get to his target and get information out of him. Heinwald rubbed the steam from his glasses, searching around for Douglass, when suddenly, their eyes met. The round, middle aged man licked his lips hungrily at the sight of Heinwald, approaching him without hesitation.

_“Be brave, Heinwald,”_ Heinwald encouraged himself, _“You’re an Inquisitor. You can handle this.”_

He squeaked as he felt Douglass’ arm wrap around his shoulder, pulling him in close. Douglass’ face was reddened with alcohol flush, and his breath stunk of booze.

“Well, hello sexy,” he purred, “Is it your first time here?”

“Umm…” Heinwald stammered, “You wouldn’t happen to be Douglass would you?”

His grip on Heinwald’s shoulder tightened, leaving red fingerprints on his pale skin.

“Fuck…” Douglass cursed, “Are those bitches saying bad things about me? They’re fuckin’ liars!”

“Oh, no, it’s nothing bad,” Heinwald fibbed, “You see, I heard that you make magic weapons at your forge. I practice a bit of magic myself and really wanted to meet you…”

Heinwald swallowed his pride as he flirted with this disgusting man.

“I…” he gagged, “I never expected such an amazing blacksmith to be such a stud too.”

Douglass raised an eyebrow in intrigue. His beady eyes sized up Heinwald, staring at his chest, his hips, his legs, his ass. Heinwald felt violated by his gaze. He could tell this man was thinking of doing unspeakable things to his body. He wanted to run away, but he needed this information.

“So, you’re a fan of mine,” Douglass growled, his hand drifting from Heinwald’s shoulder to his lower back, landing at the curve of his ass.

“Ye-yes, sir,” Heinwald whimpered, “I… I’d love to know more about your forge… Would you like to chat about it over some drinks?”

Heinwald yelped, feeling Douglass’ clammy hand dip under his skirt to squeeze his ass cheek.

“How can I refuse an invitation from a cutie like you?” Douglass grunted, leading Heinwald back over to the bar.

Douglass pulled out a stool, allowing Heinwald to sit down before calling over Ralph.

“Two flagons of your finest ale,” Douglass hollered out, holding up two fingers.

Ralph nodded, glaring daggers at Douglass as he filled their drinks. He could tell that Heinwald looked extremely uncomfortable. He didn’t care how important the mission was to Curran: he would step in if Douglass tried to push his boundaries too far. Ralph slid the drinks down the bar, not breaking eye contact with Douglass.

“Enjoy,” he grunted.

“So, I don’t think I ever got your name,” Douglass growled, running his fingertip around the rim of Heinwald’s glass.

“I’m Heinwald,” Heinwald replied, wincing as Douglass inched closer.

“Such a masculine name. Not fitting for someone as beautiful as you.”

Heinwald looked away in a mixture of embarrassment and disgust. He knew he wasn’t the manliest person in the world, but he hated having it pointed out. Nonetheless he had to swallow his pride and pretend to show interest in this wretched man. The sake of the case depended on it.

“Well, you can call me whatever you want,” he cooed.

A shiver of fear shot up Heinwald’s spine as Douglass grabbed onto Heinwald’s hair, twirling his fingers through his strands and pulling them up to his face before inhaling deeply through his nose. It always felt calming when Curran touched his hair, but he felt nothing but disgust when Douglass did the same.

“Your hair is so nice,” Douglass exhaled, “You must take good care of it.”

“I… I just use the usual shampoo and conditioner,” Heinwald replied.

“It smells like roses. I bet you love having it pulled when making love.”

Douglass tugged sharply on Heinwald’s hair, making him cry out in pain. Fortunately for him, Douglass mistook his moan for one of pleasure instead.

“You’re so cute,” Douglass praised, “But you haven’t touched your ale. Are you not thirsty?”

“I… I prefer sweet drinks,” Heinwald confessed.

“At least take a sip,” Douglass insisted, “Their house mead almost tastes like honey. If you don’t like it, I’ll buy you something else.”

Heinwald gazed over to Curran nervously. His words rung out in his head once more. Something was telling him not to drink this, but if he didn’t take at least a sip, Douglass would get suspicious. Hesitantly, he raised the glass to his mouth. Before his lips could come in contact with the rim of the drink, Heinwald felt a strong hand grab onto his arm. He looked up to see Ralph looking at him, concern hiding under his smile.

“I apologize valued guests,” Ralph said, “But I believe I accidentally gave you the wrong order. I shall replace them with new drinks free of charge.”

“You needn’t do that Ralph,” Douglass snapped, his face turning red, “We are fine with the drinks that we have.”

“I… I actually wouldn’t mind another milkshake,” Heinwald confessed.

“I will have one right out for you then,” Ralph grinned.

As Ralph walked away, he leaned in close to Heinwald, whispering in his ear.

“Don’t drink that ale,” Ralph warned, “I watched him lace the rim with a sedative. He’s tryin’ to drug you.”

Heinwald’s stomach turned. He was thankful that Ralph had come to his rescue. He dreaded what would have happened if he had not stepped in.

“Well, ol’ Ralph may have fucked up our drinks,” Douglass sputtered, “But do you still want to try whatever grog he gave us?”

“M-maybe after my milkshake,” Heinwald stammered, “I really do prefer sweet drinks over bitter ones.”

“I... I understand,” Douglass sighed in defeat.

Ralph soon returned with Heinwald’s milkshake, setting it down in front of him.

“Here you are,” Ralph smiled, “Another black forest shake.”

“Th-thanks,” Heinwald replied, happily taking a sip of the drink.

Ralph remained close by even after giving Heinwald his drink. He wasn’t certain if Douglass had more of the sedative on him and wanted to ensure that Heinwald wouldn’t be drugged.

“So,” Heinwald said, gripping onto his drink, “Would you mind telling me about your forge? I would love to know all about it.”

Douglass groaned, grabbing one of the pints of ale and nearly knocking back the whole glass in one sitting.

“Heh,” he chuckled, “Well it’s a thankless job I’ll tell ya what. You think forging magic weapons would bring a buncha cute mages to my shop but the only clients I get are freaks… Least they pay me well…”

“What do you mean by freaks?” Heinwald pressed.

“Lotsa ugly bastard cultists and burly weapons collectors,” Douglass complained, “None of ‘em are my type.”

“Cultists coming into your forge? You poor thing,” Heinwald wretched, trying to sugar coat his words, “What do they even want from you?”

“’Bout a month ago some freaks from this dragon worshipping cult commissioned a fuckton of ritual daggers from me… ‘n fuckin’ carbuncles are a pain in the ass to forge.”

“C-carbuncles you say?”

“You’ve heard of ‘em?”

“I read about them in my studies. I heard they were used in ancient rituals to transplant souls. I had no idea that there were still people practicing that dark art.”

“Well them Doppelgänger fuckers certainly wanted a bunch of ‘em. Couldn’t give two shits about what they’re using ‘em for, long as I get my rupies.”

“Doppelgänger?”

Douglass banged his head against the bar counter, “Fuck… Think I said too much.”

Heinwald finally struck gold. He had heard the name Doppelgänger before. It was an ancient dragon that was rumored to be able to shapeshift into anything and anyone within its thrall. If the people commissioning the Carbuncles were worshippers of Doppelgänger, everything would make sense. The pieces of this case were starting to come together. Those who worshipped Doppelgänger were attempting to enthrall others by planting their souls in their bodies. Even if it was only a temporary change, Doppelgänger would gain a new vessel to transform into. This case was more serious than he expected, and he and Curran had to find these cultists and put a stop to their practices before they possessed a prominent figure in Alberian politics.

“Umm,” Heinwald said, “You don’t have to worry about me telling anyone. I’m fascinated by the dark arts, but I would never practice it myself.”

“Yeah but what if someone else heard me,” Douglass groaned, “They’ll definitely send someone to kill me if an undercover Inquisitor or somethin’ found them out…”

Heinwald broke into a cold sweat. Was he onto him? He had to think of a way to convince him that he was a regular patron. He swallowed hard, his gaze shifting from his now empty milkshake glass to Curran, to the full flagon of ale still sitting out on the counter. Heinwald took a deep breath in, grabbing the flagon and raising it to his lips. Douglass grinned shrewdly as Heinwald took a large sip. Though he was worried what would happen to him, Heinwald was desperate. He had to gain Douglass’ trust so he could find out more about these dragon worshippers.

“Oh?” Douglass growled, “Decided to try the ale? Whadya think?”

“It…” Heinwald stammered, feeling sick from the taste of alcohol violating his tongue, “It’s kinda bitter…”

“Aww, you don’t look so hot… How ‘bout you lay down in my room upstairs? I can help you feel better.”

Heinwald swallowed hard. He knew that he’d be walking right into a dangerous trap, but he felt that he had no other choice.

“O-ok…” he agreed hazily.

Douglass licked his lips, helping Heinwald out of the stool. His legs wobbled as Douglass led him out of the bar to the inn section upstairs. Heinwald’s heart sunk as they stopped in front of one of the doors. Douglass wrapped his arms around Heinwald from behind, pulling him uncomfortably close. Heinwald whimpered as he felt something hard pressing against his rear. He had made a grave mistake.

“Please stop,” he begged.

“Aww, you a little shy?” Douglass growled, “With how slutty you’re dressed I thought you’d want me to fuck you on the dance floor. I just figured I’d be a gentleman and take you to my room.”

“You… you said you were going to let me lay down and feel better…”

“Oh you’ll be laying down alright… and you’ll definitely be feeling better with my cock up your cute little ass.”

Heinwald was petrified. He felt so helpless. He winced as Douglass’ uncomfortably warm tongue licked his ear, crying out as he bit down.

“Don’t worry,” Douglass purred, “We can do the rest in the comfort of my room.”

He felt one of Douglass’ hands retreat behind him, pulling keys out of his pocket and opening the door. Heinwald yelped as Douglass picked him up as if he weighed nothing, throwing him onto the bed and climbing on top of him. He squirmed underneath him, trying to push Douglass off of him as he felt up his body.

“Don’t struggle,” Douglass grunted, “If you relax, I’ll make you feel really good.”

“Stop! I don’t want this,” Heinwald cried, “I… I’m not…”

A ball formed in Heinwald’s throat as Douglass’ hands hooked under his skirt, tugging the fabric down to expose his underwear. Douglass salivated, groping Heinwald’s dick through his tight, revealing underwear.

“You’re telling me you didn’t want to get fucked but came here wearing naughty panties like these?” Douglass growled, “I think you’re just playing hard to get.”

“No! You don’t understand…” Heinwald stammered, tears pouring incessantly from his eyes, “I…”

Heinwald shivered as Douglass spread his ass cheeks, licking his lips at the sight of his pink, taut hole.

“Looks delicious,” he murmured.

“No… Please don’t…” Heinwald sobbed, “I’m begging you!”

“Cry all you want. Once that sedative kicks in, you’ll be my nice, submissive little pet.”

Heinwald froze. He felt something cold and slimy slick against the skin of his rear, followed by a touch that shook him to his core. Douglass was trying to press his finger inside of him.

“No… No!” Heinwald cried out, “Don’t put your finger inside of me! Please!”

Douglass ignored Heinwald’s pleas, cramming his finger inside of him to the knuckle. Heinwald’s eyes glazed over. This disgusting man’s digit was inside of him. He felt violated. He hated this.

“Take it out…” he choked, “It hurts. Take it out!”

“You’re so tight,” Douglass cooed, “Don’t tell me this is your first time?”

“TAKE IT OUT!” Heinwald begged.

“Oh I’ll take it out,” Douglass growled, “And I’ll give you something even better.”

Heinwald heard the jingling of Douglass’ belt coming undone as he slid his pants down, revealing a raging hard on. His pupils shrunk.

“No…” he pleaded, “NO NO NO NO NO! DON’T PUT THAT INSIDE OF ME! I DON’T WANT IT!”

Heinwald squeezed his eyes shut, preparing for the worst.

_“This is disgusting… He’s… he’s going to rape me…”_ he thought, _“Help me Curran. Save me!”_

“WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING TO MY KITTEN?” a familiar voice shouted from the doorway.

Heinwald opened his eyes to see Curran hovering over the bed, seething with rage. He yanked Douglass onto the floor, helping Heinwald up gently.

“Shit… was I too late?” Curran worried, “Did he hurt you?”

“He put his finger inside of me…” Heinwald confessed, “I’m just glad you made it… I was so scared Curran…”

Curran hugged Heinwald tight, stroking his back as Heinwald cried into his shoulder.

“The Cougar?” Douglass yelped, “I didn’t know this cutie was your bitch.”

Curran glared at Douglass, his grip around Heinwald tightening.

“You hurt him…” he growled, “You’re fucking dead, Douglass.”

“Heh, jealous that I touched your property?”

Douglass wretched as Curran kicked him in the gut. Curran grabbed Douglass by the collar, yanking him off of the floor to punch him across the face, making his nose bleed profusely.

“I’LL FUCKING KILL YOU FOR TOUCHING HIM!” Curran shouted, beating Douglass senseless, “YOU FUCKING SCUM! HOW DARE YOU TRY TO RAPE MY KITTEN!”

“He’s gonna be passed out soon anyways,” Douglass scoffed, wiping the blood from his nose and mouth, “That sedative should be kicking in any second now.”

“Fuck…” Curran cursed, “I thought I told Ralph to stop you from drinking that… I could smell that date rape drug from a mile away…”

“I…” Heinwald replied guiltily, “Ralph did warn me… but I drank it anyway. It was just a sip. I thought it would make him trust me.”

“Kitten, you idiot…” Curran hissed, “Even a lick of that stuff will knock you unconscious.”

“Cougar,” Douglass coughed, “How about we have a compromise. Once he knocks out, you can have your way with him; long as you let me jack off on his face.”

Curran pulled Heinwald close, cradling his head to comfort and protect him.

“I’m gonna have to pass on that Douglass,” Curran snapped, “Unlike you, I don’t need to drug people to get them to have sex with me. How ‘bout this instead: when he passes out, I beat the shit out of you until you pass out too?”

“Do you think you’ll be able to resist that slutty body of his?” Douglass grunted, “Guys like him are always so cute when they’re completely helpless.”

“The more you talk the more I wanna take my time killing you. A quick death would be too merciful for garbage like you.”

Before Curran could deal another blow, Douglass’ legs began to wobble. He fell to the floor, banging his head against the floorboards. It didn’t look like he passed out from pain, instead, his loss of consciousness was so sudden, Curran could only think of one thing.

“Well whadya know. Ralph came through after all,” Curran cackled, “Looks like the fucker roofied himself.”

“Wait,” Heinwald wondered, “Did Douglass drink the drugged drink?”

“Looks like Ralph must’ve swapped the glasses when none of us were lookin’. I’ll have to thank the sly bastard later.”

“Thank goodness…”

“You got lucky, kitten. Don’t you ever try that again. Do you know how worried I was when that bastard took you upstairs? I had to beg Ralph for a spare key!”

“You were concerned for me? I thought I was just a nuisance…”

Curran blushed, “Well, I’d be in deep shit with the Cardinal if his number one dog got hurt on my watch…”

Heinwald smiled, bashfully rubbing the back of his neck, “If you say so.”

For some reason, Curran looked incredibly handsome right now. Heinwald didn’t know if it was because he had just saved him or if that one sip of alcohol was getting to him, but all of his fear seemed to melt away in Curran’s presence. He wanted Curran to hold him close again. He wanted to press his head against Curran’s broad chest and listen to his heartbeat. He wanted…

“Kitten,” Curran interrupted, snapping Heinwald back into the real world, “You seem pretty excited about something.”

For some reason, Curran was smirking, a small chuckle leaking from his lips. Heinwald did not understand what was so funny until Curran pointed downward with his finger. Blush immediately spread across Heinwald’s cheeks. He was rock hard, the head of his cock peeking out of his underwear.

“D-don’t look at it!” Heinwald stammered, trying to cover up his crotch.

“You were completely soft earlier,” Curran purred, “Don’t tell me I’m the reason you’re like this.”

“Um…” Heinwald muttered, “It’s… it was involuntary… It’ll go down eventually… Anyway, we should probably take advantage of Douglass being unconscious and take him back to the Church for questioning.”

“Heh, I wouldn’t be opposed to that. This scumbag deserves to be locked up for what he did.”

Curran knelt down, heaving the unconscious Douglass over his shoulders and heading to the door.

“I’ll wait outside for you kitten,” Curran said, “Wouldn’t be wise of you to go downstairs with a boner. I’ll give you some privacy to relieve yourself.”

Curran closed the door behind him, leaving Heinwald alone in the room. Heinwald sighed, gazing down at his twitching erection. He shook his head, pulling down his underwear to free his dick from their lacy constraints. Just moments ago he was almost raped in this very room. His ass still throbbed from the forced entrance of Douglass’ finger. He wanted to erase it from his memory forever, to overwrite it with someone else’s touch.

Slowly, he curled his fingers around his member, beginning to stroke the sensitive flesh. Mewls leaked from his mouth as he touched himself, trying to picture someone else, anyone other than Douglass. He closed his eyes, trying to imagine the most attractive person he could think of caressing his cock. A shadow image began to form in his mind, a rough silhouette, but enough to aid in satisfying his lusts. As he continued stroking, his breath grew rougher and his moans louder; the image in his mind finally starting to become clear. He was getting closer and closer with each stroke, his vision going white, save for a faint illumination of the one who he desired; whose name he screamed out in ecstasy as he came heavily all over his hand.

“CURRAN!” he cried out.

Heinwald panted, looking down at the mess he had made. He could have thought of anyone, anything to help get him off. Why did imagining Curran touching him make him excited enough to release. He buried his face in his knees, relieved, but still fearful.

“Oh Goddess,” he whispered, “Please forgive me for my sins…”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut time

Heinwald squirmed under his sheets, the phantom touch of Douglass’ groping hands lingering on his body. It sickened him to his stomach. He was thankful Curran had stopped him before Douglass had gone all the way, but he still felt violated. Heinwald detested the idea of being touched by such a disgusting man.

“Curran…” he mumbled, burying his face in his pillow.

“Relax, kitten,” Curran’s voice purred, ringing out through his head as if summoned by Heinwald’s pleas, “I’ll make you forget all about that bastard. Let me pamper you until my touch completely erases his.”

Heinwald’s breath hitched. It felt like rough hands were feeling up his body, caressing his skin with a calming warmth. Unlike the vile touch of Douglass’ clammy hands, this touch felt gentler, kinder, as if attempting to pleasure him over viewing him as a piece of meat. He whimpered as the touch stopped at his chest, massaging his nipples until they hardened with arousal.

“You’re sensitive here huh?” Curran’s voice echoed, “You’re so cute, Heinwald.”

Heinwald couldn’t hold back his moans as the sensation trailed lower down his body, ghosting over his groin. This touch was addictive, intoxicating. His body was twitching with need. He was frightened, but he wanted more.

“I want to become one with you,” Curran’s voice growled, “May, I?”

“Mmm…” Heinwald whimpered, “Go ahead… Do whatever you want to me… Curran…”

Suddenly Heinwald jolted upward, his skin damp with sweat and his dick hard and aching under the thin fabric of his nightgown. He rubbed his eyes, reaching for his glasses off of his nightstand. Heinwald looked around his dark room, noticing that Curran was nowhere to be found. He was completely alone in his bed, the Curran caressing him merely a product of his imagination and his lusts.

“A dream?” he asked himself, “But… it felt so real… It felt so good…”

Heinwald looked down to his erection, twitching with want of release, and sighed.

“What’s happening to me…” he wondered, “Wanting Curran to do those things to me… I… I’m a disgrace of an Inquisitor…”

Sleep evaded Heinwald for the rest of the night. His body yearned for Curran’s touch. He craved his presence. Every time he closed his eyes to try to sleep, he would be transported back to that dream, that sweet, sinful dream of Curran ravishing his body. He grimaced as he heard a knock at his door, one of his servants coming to wake him so he wouldn’t be late. Reluctantly, Heinwald got out of bed, changing out of his nightgown and into his Inquisitor uniform. His erection had since calmed down, but he feared the mere sight of Curran would cause him to get hard again.

Heinwald really didn’t want to go to work today. It wasn’t like he needed to for lack of money. As the sole living heir to his family’s estate, Heinwald was set for life with ample funds. He merely joined the Inquisition as a pious follower of the Ilian Church, desiring to do more to spread the religion and punish those who would go against the Goddess’ kindness. However, being with Curran, feeling this undeniable attraction to him, was enough to make certain aspects of his faith waver. The Ilian Church had never viewed homosexuality in a positive light, claiming that those who lay with one of the same gender were sinners possessed by the Nether. Until recently, Heinwald blindly accepted this teaching as a fact, thinking all homosexuals were disgusting sexual deviants who preyed on straight men and women. Yet Curran, despite being gay, never thought to force himself on Heinwald. He would tease him and call him “kitten,” but if he were truly like the “evil” homosexuals the Ilian Church had warned of, would he have come to rescue him from being assaulted? Wouldn’t he have condoned Douglass’ actions, or worse yet, joined him?

“Lord Heinwald,” one of his butlers called from outside of the room, “Your breakfast has been prepared. Would you care to eat it in the dining room or take it in your bedroom?”

“Oh,” Heinwald replied, “Would it be possible for the chef to pack it for me to take to work? I fear I am not hungry at the moment, but I do not want to waste their food.”

“I shall tell the chef at once.”

Heinwald straightened out his coat, looking at himself in his mirror one last time before heading out of his room and down to the kitchen. His chef had just finished up packing up his breakfast, handing it to him in a basket for work.

“Have a pleasant day at work, milord,” the chef bowed.

“Thank you,” Heinwald replied.

The rest of Heinwald’s servants bowed politely as he left his manor, closing the door behind him. He gripped his basket tightly as he walked from his estate into town, taking a deep breath as he approached the Church. Curran had agreed to meet him here early to interrogate Douglass, but Heinwald wasn’t too keen on seeing that vile man again. He would be bound in chains at the very least, but just thinking about seeing him made him feel disgusted.

“Mornin’ kitten,” a familiar gruff voice said from behind him.

Heinwald turned around to see Curran, his smirk fading into a look of concern. He yelped as Curran raised his hand to his face, gently cradling his cheek.

“You look a bit worse for wear,” Curran fretted, “You alright?”

“I…” Heinwald stuttered, “I didn’t sleep well last night. You needn’t worry about me…”

“After what that bastard tried to do to you, I can’t blame you. You sure you’ll be ok interrogating him today? I can always handle it myself.”

Heinwald blushed. He couldn’t possibly tell Curran the reason why he couldn’t sleep was he kept having lewd thoughts about him.

“Actually,” Heinwald said, “Would you mind if I took you up on that offer? I… I really do not wish to see him again…”

“That’s fine,” Curran assured, “If I were in your position, I wouldn’t want to see that fucker’s ugly mug again either. You take care of yourself, Heinwald. I’ll meet you back at the altar when I’ve gotten the info we need outta Douglass.”

It was so rare for Curran to call Heinwald by his actual name. It felt oddly intimate, making Heinwald’s heart race.

“I…” Heinwald stammered, “I’m going to the confessional chamber… Do be safe, Curran…”

Before Curran could say anything else, Heinwald scampered away into the Church. Curran shook his head.

“Poor guy,” he sighed, “I’ll make that bastard pay for hurtin’ him…”

Curran headed into the Church, storming downstairs to the dungeons. He grabbed the keys and a pair of irons from the guard, heading over to Douglass’ cell. Curran looked at the man in disgust through the bars of the jail cell, still infuriated that he touched Heinwald without consent.

“Rise ‘n shine fucker!” he shouted into the cell, opening the door up and approaching Douglass.

“Fuck,” Douglass cursed, jolting awake, “Where… where the hell am I?”

“Yer in the dungeons of the Ilian Church Inquisition. Drugged yourself last night when you were trying to drug my partner.”

“Wait. The Inquisition? Since when did you become a Church dog?”

“I’m not. Just workin’ with them til they stop payin’ me. My partner however, is one of them.”

“Heh, never would’ve thought that cutie would be an Inquisitor. Bet they won’t be so happy to find out he went to a gay bar.”

“I dragged him there for the mission only. He’s straight. You however, are in deep shit. It’s bad enough to try an’ rape someone, but attempted rape of an Inquisitor will get you decades locked up in here.”

Douglass winced as Curran clapped the irons around his hands. Curran yanked him up, guiding him out of the cell towards the interrogation room.

“However, if it were up to me,” Curran threatened, “I would have castrated or killed you for what you did. Consider yourself lucky that you have information that kitten and I need, otherwise you wouldn’t have even made it back here to the dungeons.”

“What… what’s in it for me?” Douglass hissed, “I’m gonna be locked up anyway. Why should I talk?”

Curran threw him into one of the chairs of the interrogation room sharply, locking the door behind him. A devilish smirk spread across his face as he walked behind Douglass, grabbing onto his bound hands.

“The more you talk, the less bones of yours get broken,” Curran growled.

Douglass cringed in pain as Curran began to bend one of his fingers backwards until it snapped, dangling limply and broken from his hand.

“That’s one finger,” Curran sneered, “Still got nine more… Then I’ll move to your arms, then your legs, your ribs… hey maybe I’ll fracture your skull if I feel like it…”

“That… you can’t torture me…” Douglass blubbered, “What’ll the Inquisition think if they found out they used such cruel methods on… OUCH!”

Douglass cried out in pain as Curran snapped another one of his fingers, biting his lip hard enough to make it bleed.

“I still have eight more…” Curran grunted eagerly, “I’ll make sure to take my time breaking the one that you forced inside of Heinwald…”

“I… I’ll talk…” Douglass sputtered, “I’ll tell you everything you need to know… Please… stop hurting me!”

“Did you stop when Heinwald begged you not to touch him?” Curran sneered, “You have no right to beg. Those first two fingers were your punishment. Now tell me everything you know or else.”

***

Heinwald looked up at the marble statue, closing his eyes guiltily. He used to find this effigy to be a source of strength, but now he felt unworthy to be in its presence. Heinwald was completely torn between his faith and desires. He wanted to remain a pious Inquisitor, but his heart and body longed for something the church deemed a sin: the touch of another man. Heinwald shook his head, proceeding to the confessional chambers. As the sin he was about to beg forgiveness for was one that would get him fired, he wanted to leave his confession for the Goddess’ ears alone. Carefully, he checked the confession chambers, ensuring that no one was within earshot before stepping into one of the empty ones.

“Oh goddess,” Heinwald prayed, “Please forgive me, for I have sinned.”

He waited for a moment, hoping for no response. Luckily for him, there was only silence on the other side of the confessional chamber. He heaved a sigh of relief before continuing his confession.

“My… my body has become strange,” Heinwald confessed, “Until now, I have maintained my chastity with pride as an Inquisitor. However, recently I have been bombarded with sinful, lustful desires. I want to be touched. I want to be held. I… I have been having lewd thoughts about laying with another man. I know your teachings forbid this practice as a grave sin, but my urges seem to only grow stronger… Why last night… I dreamed …”

Heinwald swallowed hard. He felt heat pooling in his groin just at the mere memory of his lewd dream.

“I dreamed that Curran made love to me,” Heinwald choked, “I was not disgusted. I… I wanted it… And no matter how much I try to shake these thoughts from my mind, they keep coming back even stronger… I fear what will become of my faith… Please forgive me…”

“Well is that so…” a voice said from outside the confessional.

Heinwald felt like his heart had stopped.

“C-Curran?” Heinwald asked, “Is… is that you?”

The door to the confessional chamber opened, and Curran stepped inside, a smug expression plastered across his face.

“I…” Heinwald stammered, “I thought you were interrogating Douglass.”

“I was,” Curran replied, “Bastard coughed up everything he knew as soon as I threatened to break more of his fingers. Figured I’d look for you so we could put this information to use, but I think the new information I just heard is a bit more interesting…”

Heinwald stepped back as Curran inched closer to him, his single good eye hungry with lust. Heinwald’s back collided with the wall as he stared at Curran, blush painting his face red.

“What... what ever do you mean?” Heinwald attempted to play dumb.

He was answered with a pair of lips pressing into his. Curran was kissing him. His eyelids grew heavy and his face grew hot. Heinwald closed his eyes, allowing himself to be swept away by this kiss, his very first kiss. Curran pulled away, smiling at the mess he had made of Heinwald with just a peck on the lips.

“Who’da thought Mr. By-the-book Inquisitor Heinwald would be lusting over someone like me,” Curran growled.

“How much did you hear?” Heinwald sighed, looking away in shame.

_“I want to be touched. I want to be held. I… I have been having lewd thoughts about laying with another man,” _Curran repeated, laughing as he tried to imitate Heinwald’s voice.

Heinwald covered his ears, shaking his head in disbelief as the blush spreading across his cheeks grew deeper, his face turning as scarlet as cherries.

“I don’t sound like that!” Heinwald whined, “Stop mocking me Curran! Honestly, no one else was supposed to hear that… It was supposed to be a confession for the Goddess alone.”

“Sounded like the only person you were confessing to was me,” Curran growled, “Are you really that taken with me?”

Heinwald looked away bashfully, his heart pounding in his chest.

“I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t mean it…” Heinwald admitted, “It… it is true Curran… I… I think I have feelings for you.”

“You sure are beating around the bush kitten,” Curran smirked, “If we’re confessin’ things here, might as well tell you I’ve had my eyes on you since we first met.”

“What?”

“You’re just my type.”

“I… I thought you just considered me a handicap… someone only getting in your way…”

“’Course I’d get frustrated with you. Seeing you try to shoulder the burden of this whole case by yourself. I wanted you to have a little bit more faith in me.”

“Why… why didn’t you tell me sooner? Were you just going to put up with those unrequited feelings?”

“I have a policy… Never go after straight guys. It’s the fastest way to get your heart broken…”

Heinwald was puzzled. Curran had said that as if he had experienced it before. His nature made him curious to know what had happened, who had broken Curran’s heart. Curran’s past was an enigma to Heinwald, but he felt prying into it was not the best way to earn or keep his trust.

“Lucky me though,” Curran chuckled, “Looks like you aren’t as straight as you thought.”

“Please don’t make fun of me Curran…” Heinwald sighed.

Heinwald whimpered as Curran pulled him in close, feeling his own pants grow tight as Curran began grinding their hips together.

“Wait…” Heinwald mewled, “What… what are you doing Curran?”

“We’re both hard,” Curran growled, “Want me to help you out?”

“Right here? Curran, we’re in Church! This is a holy place… doing such things in front of the Goddess is… AH!”

Heinwald cried out as he felt Curran’s hand dip into his pants, wrapping around his twitching member. His touch felt white hot against his skin, filling him with burning pleasure as he stroked him.

“Your body seems to say otherwise,” Curran purred, “You want me, don’t you.”

“I… I do but…” Heinwald whimpered.

“If you want me to stop, I will. All you have to do is say the word.”

Heinwald shivered as Curran pulled down his pants, completely freeing his cock from their tight confines. He knew that if they were caught it could cost him everything, but Curran’s touch was intoxicating. Heinwald was a man of reason, yet he felt his mind go blank as Curran stroked him, his desires taking control. He needed more.

“I don’t hear you tellin’ me to stop,” Curran whispered, “Do you like it when I touch you?”

“It… it feels good Curran…” Heinwald mewled, “D-don’t stop…”

“You wanna feel me?”

“Sure…”

Curran undid the buckle on his belt, letting his pants slide to the floor. Heinwald’s jaw dropped. Even through the fabric of his underwear, Curran was rock hard, and he was big to top it off.

“Hey kitten, my eyes are up here,” Curran teased, “Guessing you like what you see. Why don’t you touch it for yourself?”

Heinwald swallowed hard as he pulled down Curran’s undergarments, his massive cock now throbbing and drooling precum in front of him. Heinwald couldn’t take his eyes off of it. He never would have thought that the sight of another man’s penis would make him so aroused, but seeing Curran so hard for him lit a fire in his stomach. He wanted to rub it until Curran came. He wanted to lick it. He wanted it inside of him. Heinwald grabbed onto Curran’s dick, stroking it rhythmically and eliciting a pleasured grunt from his partner. He was hot and thick. The shaft was smooth and muscular, but veins bulged from it, pulsing as Heinwald stroked him off. Thick precum leaked from the tip, making Heinwald’s hand wet and sticky, but he didn’t mind. He drew his hand away, raising his precum covered fingers to his mouth to lick the substance off. It was bitter and salty, yet the taste drove him mad with desire.

“Licking my precum off of your fingers?” Curran teased, “That’s kinky kitten…”

Curran released his grip around Heinwald’s dick, pushing him to his knees. Curran’s cock twitched before Heinwald’s eyes. Its musk beckoned him.

“How ‘bout you taste it directly?” Curran grunted, thrusting his dick into Heinwald’s mouth.

Heinwald sputtered as the head of Curran’s dick pushed past his lips into the back of his throat. His mouth was filled with the taste of sweat, the taste of semen, the taste of Curran. Curran’s fingers tangled into his hair, pulling his face back and forth off of his dick. Saliva dribbled from Heinwald’s lips. His glasses fogged up from his heavy exhales and the heat of Curran’s cock. It felt like his jaw was going to break, like his throat was being forced open, yet he loved every second of it.

“You’re not too bad at blowjobs Heinwald,” Curran encouraged, “I wish you could see the face you’re makin’ right now. It’s erotic as hell.”

Curran pulled his dick out of Heinwald’s mouth admiring the sight before him. Heinwald’s mouth was still agape as he inhaled sharply after having his throat fucked. Drool dripped from his lips and his tongue shimmered with a thick coating of saliva. His neatly tied back hair had gotten disheveled from Curran tugging on it and both his glasses and eyes were fogged over.

“You want more?” Curran cooed, helping him up.

“Yesh…” Heinwald babbled, completely numbed by his desires.

“Then be a good boy and show me your ass.”

“O-ok…”

Heinwald turned around, mewling as he felt Curran’s hands groping the flesh of his butt.

“Damn, and I thought your ass looked nice in that disguise I got you,” Curran praised, “Why do you cover this beauty up in your uniform?”

“Shut up…” Heinwald whimpered, “I’m… I’m sure my butt isn’t that nice…”

He shivered as Curran spread his cheeks apart, feeling his warm breath on his puckered hole. Heinwald bit down on his lip as he felt something thick and wet lap at his hole, pressing and squirming inside.

“Cu… Curran…” he mumbled, “What… what are you doing?”

“Eatin’ your ass,” Curran replied, his voice muffled, “Got somethin’ so tasty in front of me, I can’t help myself.”

Curran ran his tongue around the soft pink of Heinwald’s hole, pressing it inside to lick at his tight, sensitive insides. Heinwald squirmed as Curran’s tongue invaded him, bucking his hips backward onto the wet muscle. Moans spilled from his mouth. He was amazed that he was feeling so good just from Curran licking his butt hole. Back when Douglass forced a finger inside of him, he immediately thought that being on the receiving end of gay sex would hurt, yet with this warm pleasure pulsing in his body, Heinwald supposed he could now see the appeal.

“Shit, gonna need some lube,” Curran cursed, pulling away from Heinwald’s butt and standing up.

“What?” Heinwald wondered, “What would we need that for…”

“I don’t want to hurt you when I fuck you.”

Heinwald froze. He did want to do this with Curran, but this was truly getting dangerous now. If he let Curran take his virginity, there was no going back. While Curran had ensured him that other Inquisitors didn’t take the rule too seriously, he still feared divine punishment for violating his holy oath of chastity, and with another man no less.

“You look scared,” Curran noticed, “Your legs are shaking.”

“What?” Heinwald panicked, “No, it’s nothing.

“I’m serious, Heinwald. If you want to stop here, we can. I’m not gonna force nothin’ on you.”

“I’m just… I’m a bit nervous… It’s my first time… And I’ll be losing my virginity to a man… in Church… What would the other Inquisitors think if they found out?”

“Their opinion shouldn’t matter to you. Not when so many of them are hypocrites who lost their virginity to whores in the red light district. At least your first time will be with someone you have feelings for.”

“It… it won’t hurt, will it?”

“Not if I prepare you well enough. This ain’t my first rodeo. I know how to pleasure another man.”

“Then… I suppose you can… you can have my virginity. But if it hurts, please pull out…”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way, Heinwald. I can’t get off if I’m hurting you.”

Curran lightly kissed him on the forehead, looking around the confessional chamber for anything they could use as lube. He smirked when he spotted bottles of olive oil sitting behind the pews, uncorking one and splashing some of the golden liquid onto his fingers.

“Curran!” Heinwald scolded, “That oil isn’t to be used for this! It’s left there as a blessing from the priests.”

“Would you rather me use holy water instead?” Curran joked, “I’m just tryin’ to make sure you don’t tear when I put it in.”

Curran pushed him down onto the pew, spreading Heinwald’s legs before massaging his entrance with his lubricated finger.

“It’s best for you to relax,” Curran purred, gently pushing his finger inside, “Lay back and take deep breaths kitten.”

Heinwald winced as the foreign object slowly inched into his body. It still felt strange having someone’s finger inside of him, but it wasn’t painful. Carefully, Curran probed around Heinwald’s tight insides, feeling around for his prostate. He wanted to satisfy Heinwald, to make his first time memorable, to make him feel so good that he begged for more. Heinwald threw his hands over his mouth, moaning as Curran’s finger rubbed against his prostate.

“Curran…” he murmured, “Right there felt really good.”

“Really?” Curran prodded, “Right here?”

Heinwald shrieked as Curran pressed harder against the sensitive gland, sparks of pleasure shooting up his spine. His hips moved on their own, rocking back into the press of Curran’s finger.

“Slow down there, kitten,” Curran growled, “Look at how much of an eager mess you’ve become with just one finger.”

“But it feels so good,” Heinwald whined.

“Imagine how much better you’ll feel with another finger…”

Heinwald’s breath hitched as he felt a second digit press into him, stretching him out even further. He arched his back as Curran spread his fingers inside of him, relishing in the numbing pleasure with every swipe against his prostate.

“More…” Heinwald begged, “I want more Curran…”

“I never would have thought I’d hear that from you, kitten,” Curran teased, “Not that I’m complainin’. I could get used to seeing you like this.”

Curran wriggled a third finger into Heinwald’s soft hole. Though he was still tight, Curran could tell he was relaxed, and definitely enjoying it. He slowly withdrew all three fingers before coating his dick in oil and positioning it at Heinwald’s entrance.

“I think you’re ready,” Curran growled.

The blunt tip of Curran’s cock pressed at Heinwald’s hole, slowly inching inside. Heinwald winced. It felt like he was being split in half, like a hot rod of iron was branding him from the inside out, but even as tears pricked at the corners of his eyes, he didn’t want to stop. He needed Curran inside of him.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” Curran hissed, “You doin’ alright, Heinwald?”

“Mmm, I’m fine,” Heinwald replied, “I just feel so full…”

“Heh, only halfway inside.”

Heinwald looked down, shocked to see that Curran’s cock was halfway buried inside of him. It was embarrassing, but also arousing. Moans leaked from his mouth as Curran pressed in deeper. The stretch was beginning to turn painful.

“Cu…rran…” he choked.

“It’s alright Heinwald, I’m almost completely in,” Curran assured.

The rare moments Curran called him by his name felt strangely comforting to Heinwald. “Kitten” had slightly grown on him, but it didn’t have the same feel as hearing his own name pass through Curran’s lips. For all he knew, Curran could have called all of his previous lovers “kitten.” Yet whenever Heinwald heard Curran address him with his own name, it made him feel that he was giving his affection to him and only him, instead of rehashing the same sweet nothings whispered to past lovers.

“Curran…” Heinwald mumbled, “Say my name… Please…”

“Heinwald,” Curran grunted.

He felt Heinwald’s insides relax around him, allowing him to slide in deeper with less resistance. Curran was finally starting to catch on. Heinwald was the kind of lover who loved to be pampered. Curran kissed him lovingly, cutting off Heinwald’s moans as he sheathed himself to the hilt inside of him.

“Congrats,” Curran growled, “You’ve finally lost your virginity. Maybe now you’ll stop being such a hardass.”

“I let you penetrate me and this is the thanks I get?” Heinwald chuckled, adjusting to the sensation of Curran’s member inside of him.

“Just teasin’ you, kitten. Let me know when I can move.”

“I… I think I’m fine now. You can go ahead.”

Curran withdrew his dick to the tip before sliding it back, deep inside of Heinwald’s body. His movements started out slow and gentle, sending waves of pleasure throughout Heinwald’s groin whenever the head of Curran’s cock lightly grazed his prostate. He wrapped his arms around Curran, moaning and writhing in pleasure as he was fucked. As Heinwald began to grow accustomed to the pace, Curran smirked, suddenly rutting in harder, faster, rougher. Heinwald shrieked as Curran’s cock pounded his prostate, melting into the intense bursts of pleasure.

_“So this is sex…”_ Heinwald thought, _“Oh Goddess, forgive me… I… I fear I will become addicted to this pleasure…”_

“You might just be a natural, Heinwald,” Curran teased, “I haven’t touched your cock since our little foreplay session, yet it’s twitching so cutely like you’re about to cum. You gonna come with just your ass for your first time?”

“If… if you keep this up…” Heinwald moaned, “I will… Curran… it feels so good right there.”

“You wanna cum, my cute little slutty kitten?”

“I… I do Curran! Please let me cum!”

Just as he was about to release, Heinwald froze. He heard the sound of footsteps approaching the confessional chambers.

“Curran stop!” he ordered, “Someone… someone else is outside.”

Curran stopped moving, his hard cock still twitching inside of Heinwald as they listened carefully to the people outside.

“Hey did you see Heinwald this morning?” one of the voices said.

“Yeah, he looked like death warmed over,” the other voice replied.

Heinwald recognized these voices. They belonged to two of his fellow Inquisitors, a talented duelist named Shaun and a fellow mage named Harold.

“I can only imagine the hell he’s going through,” Shaun sighed, “Being paired up with that feral Cougar.”

“Did you see those bags under his eyes?” Harold wondered, “It’s like Cougar’s taking years off of our poor Heinwald’s life…”

Curran snarled angrily from within the confession chamber.

“Those idiots don’t know nothing…” he hissed.

“Don’t pay them any mind, Curran,” Heinwald assured, “Just ignore them.”

“He doesn’t deserve to be Hein’s partner…” Shaun grunted, “I’ve been trying so hard for years to become his partner and the Cardinal gives some stranger the honor? Pardon me, I do not intend to blaspheme our higher ups, but I cannot help but feel angry… or jealous for that matter.”

“Heh, sounds like you’ve got another admirer, Hein,” Curran teased, “I wonder what he’d think if he saw us fucking like animals in here.”

Heinwald shivered as Curran began moving inside of him again, just as rough and intense as where they left off. Heinwald tried as he could to muffle his moans, but he could not help a few from leaking out.

“Did you hear something?” Shaun wondered.

“Like what?” Harold asked.

“Sounded like someone moaning in pain,” Shaun gritted his teeth.

“Curran, stop moving,” Heinwald begged, “If you keep this up… They’ll hear me… I can’t hold back my voice.”

Curran threw his hand over Heinwald’s mouth, still rutting hard inside of him.

“Then I guess you’ll just have to try and keep quiet, kitten,” Curran smirked, “Because I think fucking while people are right outside is hot. It’s thrilling thinking we might get caught.”

“Kuruhn…” Heinwald mumbled through Curran’s hand.

“Heh,” Curran scoffed, “Imagine if your Inquisitor buddies saw you like this. I bet they’d want to join us. Maybe you could take one in your mouth while you jack the other one off.”

“N-no, Kuruhn,” Heinwald muttered.

Heinwald cried out, licking at the palm of Curran’s hand as intense pleasure pulsed throughout his body, making him spasm underneath Curran. He was close, and surprisingly enough, hearing his peers talking just outside only made him feel more stimulated.

“I swear if Cougar hurts Heinwald…” Shaun cursed, “I’ll never forgive him…”

“Heh, if only he knew,” Curran growled, “That you were writhing in pleasure on the ‘feral Cougar’s’ cock… You gonna cum soon for me, kitten?”

“Mhm…” Heinwald whimpered.

Heinwald threw his head back as the sweet release of orgasm took him. He cried out as came all over his and Curran’s stomachs, soiling their shirts with his semen. Heinwald’s breath was taken away. He was spent, basking in his afterglow, yet Curran still continued to move, bucking his hips into Heinwald’s clenching hole.

“W-wait…” Heinwald sputtered, “I just came…”

“I haven’t yet,” Curran retorted, “Just bear with it a bit longer, Heinwald. I’ll be finished soon.”

Heinwald’s eyes widened as he realized Curran’s intentions. Curran wanted to release inside of him. Sure, he was a man so it wouldn’t result in pregnancy, but he still found the idea of being creampied humiliating. He squeezed his eyes shut, feeling Curran’s dick spasm inside of him, followed by a sticky, warm wetness filling him up. Curran pulled his softening cock out of Heinwald’s body, admiring the sight before him. Heinwald was panting, his cheeks flushed and sweaty with cum drenching his shirt and dripping lewdly out of his asshole.

“I could get used to seeing this,” Curran whistled, “I almost feel like I could go another round.”

Heinwald didn’t have the breath or energy to respond. After the pleasure of afterglow clouding his mind faded, reality struck him like a hammer. He had just had sex with another man on holy grounds, using ritual oil as lubricant. Heinwald felt ashamed. He was certain that even a merciful goddess like Ilia would not forgive him for this.

“Think you can stand alright, kitten?” Curran asked, offering a hand.

“I’m perfectly capable of standing on my own,” Heinwald hissed, batting Curran’s hand away.

He steadied himself, attempting to stand up from the pew only for a dull throb of pain to shoot through his rear.

“Ow…” he mumbled.

“A little sore?” Curran chuckled.

“More than just a little! It feels like I can’t move my legs!”

“Ha! Didn’t even think I was that rough with you. You were moaning so much, I thought you were enjoying it.”

“I… I was… but…”

Heinwald paused. Perhaps it was the weight of his guilt, his sins, that made his body feel so heavy.

“Fine, help me up,” Heinwald conceded, “I just hope the Inquisitors won’t notice me walking funny…”

“We’ll just tell ‘em you tripped and fell on your ass on our last stakeout,” Curran laughed, “Then again, it seems like you’d have plenty to cushion the fall with.”

Heinwald whimpered as Curran slapped his ass, leaving a bright red handprint on his cheek.

“Curran!” Heinwald blushed, “What was that for? My butt is sore enough already!”

“Heh, that cute little moan made me think otherwise,” Curran teased, helping Heinwald get dressed and stand up, “Looking forward to doing this again next time.”

Heinwald could feel Curran’s semen leaking from his ass, seeping into the fabric of his underwear and pants.

“If there _is_ a next time, can we at least do it somewhere more private?” Heinwald pleaded, “You may have relished in the idea of others catching us, but I wouldn’t be too keen on losing my job for desecrating a holy place with sodomy…”

Curran kissed him gently on his cheek, running his fingers through his now disheveled hair. Heinwald did not expect such tenderness to come from Curran, but it was duly appreciated.

“Fine by me, Heinwald,” Curran cooed, “Lemme take a quick look outside to see if your Inquisitor buddies are still there. I’ll let ya know when the coast is clear.”

Curran slipped into his pants and buckled up his belt before walking out of the confession chamber, looking around the hall. Fortunately, the room was empty. He peeked back into the chamber, giving Heinwald a thumbs up.

“Looks like we’re good to go,” he assured, “You can come out without no one suspectin’ nothing.”

“Thanks,” Heinwald replied.

His legs wobbled as he walked out of the chamber, his body still uncomfortably sticky from both his and Curran’s semen.

“By the way,” Curran interjected, “When you get your strength back in your legs, we should probably head out. I got Douglass to spill info on the cultists’ hideout.”

“You did?” Heinwald responded, shocked, “I didn’t even know he would have such information.”

“Technically it was a breach of his contract with his clients, but it was either he told me or I broke his leg. He chose the former. Anyway, he’s been shippin’ carbuncles out of town to a small island near the binding ruins. Based on the sheer quantity ordered, it has to be their home base.”

“We will have to rent a boat for the endeavor, but I am certain that the Cardinal will be willing to grant us one for passage. I will only need a few hours to rest. We should head out in the evening.”


	8. Chapter 8

Heinwald tugged the hood of his cape over his head, attempting to shield himself from the night wind and the splashes of seawater as Curran rowed their boat to the archipelago of the Binding Ruins. Fog hung low on the sea, and Heinwald dared not look down, lest he make eye contact with one of the creatures beneath the waves. He always detested the ocean. After nearly drowning at a family outing as a child, he always wanted to stay as far away from the sea as possible. Yet when duty called, he could not let his fear prevent him from getting the job done.

He tried to distract himself from the crashing of the waves, the roar of the torrent as they came closer to their destination. His gaze immediately shifted to Curran, who was working up a sweat as he paddled their humble craft to the shore. With each row, his firm muscles flexed, making Heinwald swallow hard. His pectorals peeked out from his shirt, sweat and seawater dripping down his scar-riddled skin. After doing such lewd things with Curran, Heinwald began to notice little things about Curran’s body that attracted him to it. His skin stretched taut over his large muscles, his deep scars that covered his body like medals of honor, his well kept goatee and partially slicked back coif. Heinwald feared that Curran would catch him staring, calling him out and teasing him for doing so. Yet Curran seemed so focused on getting them to the island safely, he hardly said a word.

Heinwald jolted forward as the boat made landfall, the bow burying into the sand. Curran picked up his axe and stepped out of the boat before throwing an anchor overboard so their craft wouldn’t float away. He stretched his hand out to Heinwald, offering it to help him disembark.

“We’re here, Heinwald,” he said, “Ready to kick some cultists’ asses?”

Heinwald nodded in agreement, grabbing his staff, “Yeah. Let’s show them the might of the Ilian Church.”

They left the shore, looking around for the cultist’s hideout. Based on Douglass’ info, he would ship the carbuncles to a manor that used to belong to a noble from the age of Dyrenell. As the manor had long since been abandoned, it made the perfect home base for a group of cultists, especially since the concentration of dark mana leylines was so thick around here. In the distance, Curran spotted a violet light coming from a peak at the island’s heart. He squinted, trying to discern where it was coming from.

“Heinwald, I think I see the place,” he said, “Follow me.”

He grabbed Heinwald’s hand, leading him from the soft sand to the rocky terrain of the island’s mouth. They ascended the crags, carefully stepping over protruding roots and inching past boulders. As they got closer, Curran was able to better view the source of the light. It appeared to be one of two dark mana fonts, spiraling in front of a large stone building.

“Jackpot,” he cheered, “Looks like we’re almost there.”

“The sheer amount of dark mana here is incredible,” Heinwald smiled, “Looks like I’ll be able to go all out.”

“Still can’t believe you’re a _dark_ mage of all things. Never woulda thought a healer would call on dark mana to heal other people’s wounds.”

“Just because the source of my magic comes from mana of darkness doesn’t mean that I use it for evil. One cannot help their natural inclination to certain elements, and the Church accepts that dark magic can be used for good. Besides, I’m excited to show you what I can accomplish when I have access to such pure, unlimited mana like this.”

“It’ll be nice for you to carry me for once.”

“Since when have I not pulled my weight? If you keep talking like that you’ll have to find someone else to heal your wounds.”

“I won’t be getting wounded anyway. No way a bunch of cultists will be able to take me down.”

Carefully, the two approached the large wooden door to the stone fortress. As expected, it was locked tight.

“Bet they weren’t expectin’ company,” Curran scoffed, “Guess we’ll just have to show ourselves in.”

He heaved his ax into the door, hacking away at the splintering wood until the lock within broke. Heinwald sighed, shaking his head in disappointment.

“Must you be so conspicuous?” Heinwald groaned, “I could have easily used my magic to pick the lock. Certainly the entire cult knows we’re here now with the racket you just made…”

“Yeah but what fun would that be?” Curran laughed.

Curran pried open the door, looking around the foyer to ensure the coast was clear.

“Looks like you were worried for nothin’ kitten,” Curran said, “Don’t see anyone in here.”

“That’s odd,” Heinwald replied, rubbing his chin, “Perhaps they’re in the basement? Mana flows through the earth, and though the concentration of dark mana is strong around here, I can only imagine how much is required to transplant a soul. Mayhap they’re conducting their rituals underground to be closer to the source of dark mana.”

“It’s like you’re speakin’ a foreign language when you talk like that. Only thing I got out of that is those creeps might be in the basement.”

“I suppose that’s all you needed to know… Well then, shall we make for the basement?”

“Yeah, let’s go.”

Heinwald chanted an incantation, illuminating the tip of his staff with the violet glow of dark mana to serve as a torch to guide them. They slowly walked into the foyer. The heels of Heinwald’s shoes clacked against the stone floors, breaking the silence that would otherwise be suffocating. He swallowed hard as he looked for an entrance to the basement, or any other clues to the cult’s whereabouts for that matter.

He stopped in front of every closed door, giving the knobs a turn before picking the locks with his magic. After the scene Curran had caused at the front entrance, he didn’t trust him to go off investigating on his own, bidding him stay by his side. Besides, Heinwald didn’t want to be alone in a place like this. After almost being raped at the bar, the thought of being alone in suspicious areas frightened him.

Heinwald took a deep breath before opening the door, discovering what looked like a library. Four men in black, hooded robes turned around upon hearing the door open, brandishing wands and weapons.

“What are you doing here?” one yelled, “Trespassers are forbidden!”

“By order of the Ilian Church,” Heinwald said, “You are under arrest for forbidden practice of ancient rituals involving cursed weapons. Come quietly or my partner and I will have to use force.”

The cultists ignored Heinwald’s orders, two of them charging at him and Curran with cursed weapons while the other two flung spells at them from behind.

“Eldritch Pavise!” Heinwald shouted, waving his staff.

Dark mana rose from the ground, surrounding him and Curran. The cultist’s weapons bounced off of the mana, like shield protecting them, and the spells were soon absorbed, only making the shield stronger.

“You’re a dark mage?” one of the cultists hissed, “Damn… I thought all mages for the Church were naturally inclined to light magic.”

As the shield dissipated, Heinwald waved his staff once more, casting an empowering aura of dark magic around him and Curran.

“Abyssal Connection!” he chanted, “Curran get in there! I just imbued your weapon with dark mana. You should deal more damage against them now.”

“Sweet!” Curran cheered, “Magic is still confusin’ as all hell to me, but I won’t say no to hitting these fuckers harder.”

Curran charged at the weapon bearing cultists, disarming them while Heinwald shielded, buffed, and healed him. He felt unstoppable when powered up like this. Curran had to hand it to Heinwald, he was quite the gifted mage, and they made a pretty good team. After disarming the cultists, he proceeded to knock them out with the blunt side of his ax. Killing them would be a waste when they could have such useful information. The only one he left conscious was the scrawniest mage in the back, who immediately threw up his hands in surrender when Curran approached him.

“P-please spare me!” he begged, “I’ll tell you what you need to know!”

“Heh, good to know,” Curran smirked, grabbing the cultist by the collar of his robes.

“We hear you and your friend’s have been forcin’ your souls into other people’s bodies. Mind tellin’ us what poor souls you’ve been torturing?”

“I… I don’t know! I just do grunt work and gather reagents.”

Heinwald stepped up, interjecting, “Do you at least know where the ritual is performed?”

“D-downstairs!” the cultist yelped, “There’s no clear cut way to the basement for outsiders, but there’s a secret passage! There’s a trap door hidden under the sink in the bathroom. It will take you directly down there!”

“You ain’t lyin’ to us, are you?” Curran threatened.

“No, sir! I promise I am not!” the cultist whimpered.

Curran let go of the cultist, turning around. The cultist smirked beneath his robe, pulling a carbuncle out of his sleeve and lunging at Curran.

“Look out!” Heinwald warned, “Call of Chaos!”

Dark tendrils rose from the ground, binding the cultist in place and sapping his energy until he fainted. Curran whistled.

“Damn, I owe you one,” Curran praised.

“Think nothing of it,” Heinwald replied. “Now, we should make for this trap door.”

Curran kicked at the unconscious bodies on the floor, making sure they were all completely knocked out.

“Hein,” Curran suggested, “Maybe we should take two of their robes for disguises.”

“What is it with you and disguises?” Heinwald sighed.

“You saw how these chumps reacted when they saw us. I thought you of all people would want to avoid conflict.”

“I suppose you do have a point. Very well…”

Curran knelt down to the floor, stripping off two of the cultists’ robes while Heinwald kept watch. He pulled his own robes on, adjusting the hood before handing another one to Heinwald. While Curran’s robes fit decently, Heinwald drowned in his. He was so slender that he was swimming in even the smallest cultist’s robes. But that didn’t matter. So long as they looked like cultists, they wouldn’t have to worry about facing any reinforcements.

The two abandoned the library, closing the door behind them. Heinwald chanted an incantation to lock the door behind them from the outside, trapping the cultists within until they returned later. They made their way to the bathroom, kneeling down to open the cabinet under the sink. To their surprise, the cultist was not lying. Hidden under the crawlspace was a tight passage leading to a stairway to the basement. Curran extended his hand, offering Heinwald to go first.

“After you,” he insisted.

Heinwald rolled his eyes, “You just want to stare at my butt while we crawl through the trap door, don’t you…”

“Guilty as charged.”

“Was what we did earlier today not enough for you? I’m still sore just so you know.”

Heinwald whimpered as Curran groped his ass, shivering at his touch.

“Are your desires that insatiable?” Heinwald hissed, “At least wait until after we’ve apprehended the cultists.”

“Is that an invitation to have my way with you later?” Curran teased.

“You’re like a beast in heat. No wonder they call you The Cougar.”

“I’d be more willing to behave myself if you promised me a blowjob later.”

“Fine… As long as it will get you to see this case through to completion.”

“That was all you needed to say.”

Heinwald shook his head. At least he finally had a method by which to control Curran, albeit a rather vulgar one. He crouched down, crawling through the trap door to the stairway. Curran followed soon after, following the light from the tip of Heinwald’s staff as their guide. They crept down the dark stairway, gripping their weapons in anticipation of the horrors below. As they descended, Heinwald heard a muffled scream, no doubt a victim having their soul extracted with a carbuncle.

They froze in place as soon as they reached the ritual room, appalled at the sight before them. A woman was lying down completely naked in a glowing, violet magic circle, surrounded by chanting cultists. A cultist with ritual headgear stood above her, carving a sigil onto her back with a carbuncle. She screamed and writhed, a light blue ball of light rising above her back as her screams went silent. A cultist stepped aside, opening up the door to a closet in the room. It was filled with jars containing those blue orbs, all of which were bouncing around their prisons as if attempting to escape. The cultist removed an empty jar, bringing it over to the magic circle and capturing the blue orb floating above the woman within. He set the jar down, taking the carbuncle from the elder.

“For our Lord Doppelgänger,” he declared with pride, “Another body for your thrall!”

Without hesitation, the cultist plunged the dagger into his own chest, toppling to the ground as blood pooled around his wound. A violet orb emerged from his lifeless body, clinging to the very steel of the carbuncle. The elder nonchalantly plucked the dagger from his chest before holding it above their victim. The orb detached from the weapon, sinking down into the sigil on the woman’s back. The mark began to glow, and the woman, once a soulless husk, now stood up with life, cackling maniacally in victory.

“All hail Lord Doppelgänger!” she cheered.

“All hail Lord Doppelgänger!” the cultists chanted.

Heinwald almost fell backward in horror. These cultists were so enthralled by Doppelgänger that they were willing to sacrifice themselves in the ritual in addition to the victims they captured. He and Curran had to put an end to this and free those poor souls that were trapped. Heinwald swallowed hard, walking down to the ritual circle and trying his best to blend in with the rest of the cultists. He was able to rescue the old man from before by simply healing the wound on his back. Perhaps he could do the same for this girl, but he was certain they wouldn’t just hand her over. He had to show them that he was one of them.

“All hail Lord Doppelgänger!” he said to the elder.

“I thought I told you to stay in the library until the ritual was done…” the elder scolded, “No matter. Our sacrifice has been added to Lord Doppelgänger’s domain. You may return her to her homeland.”

“My apologies, sir.”

The now possessed woman stirred, putting on her clothes and snickering maliciously.

“This new body is quite the beautiful one,” the woman said, “I oft wonder why Lord Doppelgänger chose the body of that senile old geezer instead of a gorgeous woman like this.”

“The appearance for our Lord matters not,” the elder scolded, “Bodies of the common man exist only as back ups for him, and we have the honor of holding the place until he needs it.”

“Um, ‘scuse me,” Curran said, “I only just joined the cult a little while ago. Mind tellin’ me who the geezer is that our Lord is possessing.”

Heinwald stared at Curran in disbelief. There was no way the elder would fall for that. The elder squinted at him from under the hood.

“Surely you jest,” the elder scoffed, “Our Lord required a prominent figure in either Church or State to make his return. How else will he become the patron deity instead of that witch Ilia?”

Heinwald had to hold back his rage. It was worse than he suspected. The cultists had not only attempted to possess an important figure in Grastaea for the sake of their cult, they had _succeeded._ The only question now was who they had possessed. He attempted to look around the room, trying to find any sort of clue as to the identity of the important figure while Curran distracted the elder and the rest of the cultists.

“Yeah, so is he in the body of a governor or somethin’?” Curran asked.

“Our Lord is far superior to a mere Noble. He pleaded to infiltrate the highest ranks of the Church,” the elder said with pride.

Heinwald froze. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a small accessory glinting on the ground. He bent over to pick it up, examining it closely and making his heart drop to his stomach. This small piece of jewelry was none other than the Platinum Halo, a necklace given to the highest ranking members in the Ilian Church. Memories flashed through his head as he recalled a conversation he had with the Cardinal, mere weeks before he had met Curran.

***

_ “Heinwald,” the Cardinal said, “I will be attending a pilgrimage to Alberia today to deliver the word of Ilia to the main branch of the Church. Until then, I leave the Inquisition in your hands.”_

_ “When do you think you’ll return?” Heinwald wondered._

_ The Cardinal chuckled jovially, “I should be no more than a few days. I expect a detailed report on what happened while I was gone as soon as I return.”_

_ “Understood, your holiness.”_

***

“He… he’s possessed the Cardinal…” Heinwald whispered to himself.

He walked over to Curran, putting his hand on his shoulder before he exposed their identity to the entire cult.

“I apologize for our new member’s incompetence, sir,” he said to the elder, “We shall return our sacrifice immediately.”

Heinwald grabbed Curran’s hand before leading both him and the “sacrifice” out of the basement.

“Hey, Hein, what are you doing running away like that?” Curran whispered, “I thought we were gonna take all of those fuckers in to the Church to arrest ‘em.”

“I fear the situation is more dire than we expected,” Heinwald replied, “I shall explain it to you when it is safe to do so. Until then, I am going to need you to keep your eyes on the woman. When I give the word, hold her down, and I shall heal her wound of possession.”

“If you say so…” Curran sighed.

They proceeded in silence until they left the stone fortress, heading down to the beach.

“Hey, this isn’t the way to our docks,” the woman said, “What’s going on here?”

“CURRAN NOW!” Heinwald ordered, “AND HOLD UP HER SHIRT! I NEED TO SEE HER BACK!”

Curran grappled with the possessed woman, holding her in a headlock as she squirmed.

“You whelps!” she hissed, “You two are not in our thrall are you? How did you find us?”

“Ya need to find a more trustworthy blacksmith,” Curran huffed, “Only took breaking a few of his bones for him to tell me where your hideout was.”

“Douglass…” she cursed, “Then… you must be with the Ilian Church?”

“Hold her still Curran,” Heinwald said, placing his hands over the sigil.

The woman shrieked as Heinwald began healing the wound on her back.

“You… you are too late,” she sputtered, the soul of the cultist beginning to fade, “We have your Cardinal. Lord Doppelgänger… will become the new God!”

“What?” Curran shouted.

The woman passed out, her sigil completely healed over and the soul of the cultist returning to the flow of dark mana.

“That was the dire news I needed to tell you Curran,” Heinwald sighed, “Doppelgänger has possessed the Cardinal…”

“Shit… how did you figure that out?” Curran wondered.

Heinwald fished the Platinum Halo from his pocket.

“This is the Cardinal’s Halo,” Heinwald explained, “A few weeks ago, he went on a pilgrimage to Alberia, returning a few days later. I never suspected a thing… He even told me ‘how well’ his pilgrimage went! But… during that time they kidnapped him… and he’s being possessed by that foul Doppelgänger.”

“Wait… so this happened before I started workin’ for him?”

“I did find it odd how he hired you, someone who was never on good terms with the Church. Doppelgänger probably hired you to derail me from solving the case, or better yet, have me killed if I upset you.”

“Well his plan certainly backfired. But if that was the case, why would he give us the boat to go to his goonies’ hideout? Wouldn’t he want us to stay away from there?”

“He probably put too much faith in his followers… He must have expected them to kill us.”

“Shit…. We’ve been dancing in the palm of his hand this whole time!”

“Curran. We have to save the Cardinal. I know you don’t exactly like the Church, but we can’t have Doppelgänger achieve his goal.”

“I know I shouldn’t go against a client… But I couldn’t agree with you more… There’s no way we can let those freaks take over.”

Curran loaded the still unconscious woman into their craft, helping Heinwald in before jumping in himself and raising the anchor. Heinwald gripped onto his staff, looking back at the stone fortress as they left the island.

“Cardinal…” he mumbled, “Do not worry, I will save you.”


	9. Chapter 9

By the time they had returned to the Church, the full moon already hung high in the sky. Mist flooded the streets, licking at their ankles and glowing eerily under the light of the stars. Light poured out of the stained glass windows of the Church. Though normally the glow coming from the Church’s interior was a source of comfort for Heinwald and the people of the town alike, Heinwald couldn’t help but feel unsettled. A monster had taken control of their church, wearing the mantle of their Cardinal as a disguise in order to further his influence across the realm. He felt a hand rest on his shoulder, turning around to see Curran.

“Don’t worry,” Curran assured, “We’ll get Doppelgänger out of the boss.”

“I feel like the sanctity of the Church has been violated,” Heinwald bemoaned, gripping onto his staff, “How could I not have noticed sooner that the Cardinal was possessed… I feel like it’s my fault…”

“He pulled the wool over both of our flies… But long as we save him, you don’t gotta feel guilty ‘bout nothing.”

“I was able to expel the cultist souls with my magic, but this time I’ll be exorcising the soul of a dragon… Do you really think I can do it?”

“You’re a great mage. I don’t see why you think you can’t do it. Besides, I’ll be there to back you up.”

“I appreciate it.”

Though Heinwald was initially wary of his partnership, he felt that he and Curran had grown into quite the unstoppable team. Not only did they work well together, but their bodies were undeniably compatible. Heinwald only wished the Church was more accepting of same-sex relationships. He feared the repercussions if anyone found out that he and Curran had crossed the line between partners in work and partners in bed. Even if they rescued the Cardinal, he still worried about being ostracized by his peers for his “sinful” relationship.

“You alright Hein?” Curran wondered, “You look kinda nervous.”

“I’m fine… just lost in thought…” Heinwald replied, “Curran… after this is all over, I… I wouldn’t mind remaining partners with you. But would you mind if we kept our relationship a secret? It’s not that I’m ashamed of the thought of being with you… It’s just…”

Curran kissed Heinwald on the cheek, making him blush and his tensions melt away.

“I completely understand, Hein,” Curran said sympathetically, “I know the Church ain’t too keen on gay guys. Wouldn’t want you losin’ your position. I couldn’t care less what the Church thinks of me, but if it’s for you, I’m fine with keeping our relationship on the down low.”

“Thank you Curran.”

“Besides, if the other Inquisitors found out you were off the market, I’m pretty sure it would break tons of their hearts.”

“Do I honestly come off as _that_ attractive to gay men?”

“I’m still amazed you haven’t noticed how many guys think you’re hot. You turn heads, kitten.”

“You mean to tell me those aren’t stares of fear or judgment?”

“For someone as smart as you, you really can be a dumbass, kitten. Well, not like it matters. You’re all mine anyway.”

Heinwald yelped as Curran pulled him close, groping at his body. While Heinwald would be lying to himself if he said he didn’t enjoy being touched by Curran, they had work to do. He pushed him off, glaring at him with conviction.

“Curran, now is not the time,” Heinwald scolded, “You can do whatever you want once we save the Cardinal. We have far more important things to tackle right now.”

“I’m gonna hold you to that,” Curran growled, “Your manor? A hotel? Or maybe we can do it in the confessional chambers again.”

“Curran!” Heinwald blushed, “Can’t we discuss this later?”

“Fine, fine… You sure the Cardinal is even here right now?”

“He and many of the other clergymen have dormitories here. If he is not in his office, we can at least check in his room.”

Curran held the door open, allowing Heinwald to walk inside ahead of him. The Church was eerily silent, as most Inquisitors had left for the day and the clergymen had retired to their rooms. The smell of lavender incense filled the room. No doubt some of the monks had just performed their nightly prayer, carrying the incense burner through the halls of the church to bless the night air. Candles resting on the alter burned low, wax dripping from the spires onto the candelabras and hardening like icicles off of a roof in the frigid winter. The marble statue of Ilia still stood tall and pristine, as if watching over her children within the Church. Heinwald found it ironic that even with her divine protection, a foul dragon had still managed to infiltrate this sacred place.

Heinwald clasped his hands together in prayer before the statue, closing his eyes and humming a hymn as if to bless himself and Curran. Doppelgänger would certainly not go down without a fight. He still recalled how powerful the first victim they encountered became after having a cultist possessing him. Heinwald could only imagine and fear the strength the Cardinal would possess from being the vessel of Doppelgänger. After saying his prayer, he looked back to Curran for reassurance, nodding his head as they steeled themselves for their battle to come.

They left the altar, heading over to the Cardinal’s office. Light leaked from the crack under the door. Unless he forgot to extinguish his candles, the Cardinal had to be inside. Heinwald took a deep breath, gripping at his staff before opening the door. The Cardinal’s expression turned sour as he saw Curran and Heinwald enter his office, setting down his quill and sitting up straight behind his desk.

“I see you have returned safely from the cultists’ hideout,” he swallowed, “Did you manage to apprehend any of them or rescue any more victims?”

“Well, Cardinal,” Curran hissed, “We did manage to save one victim, but the info we learned from the cultists was a bit more interesting…”

“Is that so,” the Cardinal replied, visibly tensing up.

“Your Holiness,” Heinwald swallowed hard, “A-allow me to brief you further on the nature of this case.”

“Go on,” the Cardinal inhaled.

“As you know,” Heinwald began, clearing his throat, “The cultists have been kidnapping their victims and transplanting their own souls into their bodies to enthrall them to the dragon they worship. While we were unfortunately unable to capture any of the cultists, we were able to rescue the sacrifice, expelling the cultist’s soul from her body.”

“That is good news,” the Cardinal smiled.

“We also managed to witness the ritual itself, and discern the cult’s motive,” Heinwald informed, “The cultists utilize a cursed weapon called a Carbuncle to extract their own soul and transplant it into the victim’s body. However, this process kills the cultist, leaving their body fatally wounded and without a soul inside. I theorize that their reason for doing this is because the soul of the being they extract would attempt to possess the cultist’s body otherwise.”

“Why would you think that?” the Cardinal wondered.

“I noticed they kept the victims souls in jars,” Heinwald said, “When I was able to expel the cultist’s soul, the victim’s soul returned shortly after. I hypothesize that the victim’s soul, or any disembodied soul for that matter, would attempt to bind itself to any empty vessel it comes in contact with. Of course, while its own body is its main priority, rushing back to it as soon as it is no longer occupied, the jars serve as necessary containment facilities so the victims remain trapped.”

“Do you have any idea why they would do this?” the Cardinal asked.

“Well, allow me to elucidate you by presenting a motive,” Heinwald said with conviction, “These cultists wish to usurp the Church of Ilia, having their patron deity Doppelgänger take over as the new God.”

“Goodness,” the Cardinal said, placing his hand over his chest.

“Doppelgänger has a special ability,” Heinwald choked, “To be able to take the physical form of any being within its thrall. By possessing the people of Alberia, the cultists are able to provide their deity with new forms. However, their ambitions do not end there. And I believe you might be familiar with it your Holiness.”

The Cardinal stood up from his chair, his face turning red with anger and contorting into a scowl.

“What are you suggesting, Heinwald?” the Cardinal hissed, “You believe that I am in cahoots with these heretics?”

“The Cardinal himself isn’t,” Heinwald accused, “But then again, his soul isn’t inside of his body right now.”

Heinwald pulled the Cardinal’s Halo from his pocket, holding it out for the “Cardinal” to see.

“His soul is trapped in the cultists’ lair near the Binding Ruins,” Heinwald pressed, “Isn’t that right, Doppelgänger?”

The Cardinal looked down, his frown twisting into a crooked smile. Maniacal laughter spilled from his mouth as his pure blue eyes glowed violet with black mana. Heinwald held out his staff and Curran brandished his ax, preparing to defend themselves from the Cardinal’s, no, Doppelgänger’s inevitable onslaught.

“I thought my children would have done a better job at protecting our secrets,” Doppelgänger growled, “Perhaps I underestimated the strength of the Inquisition. I never expected you to return alive.”

“It’s over Doppelga- Doppelfang…” Curran tripped, “FUCK IT! IT’S OVER YOU FUCKIN’ DRAGON!”

“You intend to raise your weapons against me?” Doppelgänger scoffed, “If you harm me, you harm the Cardinal. Do you truly wish to have his blood on your hands?”

“Heh,” Curran laughed, dropping his ax, “You got me. Hand to hand combat it is!”

Curran lunged Doppelganger, throwing a sharp punch to its side. He winced as Doppelganger caught his fist mid-blow, twisting his arm. Curran hissed in pain. It felt like his muscle was being ripped from his bone. It truly felt like he was fighting a dragon.

“Curran!” Heinwald called out, “Call of Chaos!”

Doppelganger winced as tendrils of darkness rose from the ground, sapping its life force. Curran felt his wounds healing, life draining from his foe and into his own body.

“Owe ya for that,” Curran smiled.

“Don’t mention it,” Heinwald replied, “Now get back in there!”

“Gotcha,” Curran replied.

Doppelgänger struggled against the dark tendrils that Heinwald had summoned, his rage only increasing.

“I will not fall for that spell again,” Doppelgänger growled.

“Don’t need ya to,” Curran said.

Curran took advantage of the opening Heinwald had created for him, punching Doppelgänger in the gut. Doppelgänger winced, but returned the blow, hooking around his front in an attempt to catch Curran off guard. Curran swiftly dodged the blow, delivering a roundhouse kick to Doppelgänger’s jaw. Heinwald bit his lip, his heart skipping a beat as he watched Curran mercilessly attacking their foe to subdue him.

“Heinwald, you gonna help or just watch?” Curran spat.

“Oh…” Heinwald blushed.

He was embarrassed that Curran had caught him staring, but even if Doppelgänger could dodge his magic attacks, he could at least power up Curran.

“Abyssal Connection!” he shouted.

Curran was surrounded by an empowering aura, his muscles bulging as dark mana infused with his very being. Heinwald had to look away so Curran wouldn’t notice his blush, growing only deeper and redder across his face. Now buffed by Heinwald’s magic, Curran was able to easily overpower Doppelgänger. He held his foe in a headlock, struggling to keep him contained within his grasp.

“Now! Heinwald!” Curran yelled.

“I’m on it!” Heinwald replied, rushing over to the Cardinal’s body.

He pulled up the back of the Cardinal’s cloak, grimacing at the sight of the sigil on his back. It was far larger and more intricate than the cultist’s sigils, and it pulsed with black mana. Even as a skilled mage and healer, he still wasn’t certain that he’d be able to heal this.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Curran struggled.

“I’m sorry, I’ll fix him right now…”

Heinwald held both of his hands over the sigil, chanting an incantation in an attempt to expel the dragon’s soul from the Cardinal’s body. Yet Doppelgänger didn’t shriek in pain or curse Heinwald for exorcising him. Instead, he began laughing, as if Heinwald’s attempt to heal the carved wound was tickling him.

“What?” Heinwald wondered, color draining from his face, “Why isn’t it working? Why isn’t the wound closing up?”

“You call that healing magic?” Doppelgänger heckled, “It will take more than that to exorcise my soul.”

As Heinwald’s buff for Curran began to fade, Doppelgänger fought against Curran’s grip, squirming and bucking in an attempt to break free.

“I don’t know how much longer I can hold him!” Curran grunted, “Hurry!”

“I’m trying…” Heinwald cried, “It’s… it’s not working though!”

Heinwald pressed his hands harder against the Cardinal’s skin, praying while chanting his healing spell. Dark mana ate through the fabric of his gloves, singeing his flesh and making him cry out in pain. His blood dripped onto the wound, melding with the black mana emerging from the sigil.

“Well isn’t this fascinating,” Doppelganger sneered, “That someone with blood like yours is so devoted to the Church.”

“What… what do you mean? Blood like mine?” Heinwald winced.

“Do you really not know of your lineage, boy?” Doppelgänger snickered, “You even say it for yourself in one of your spells; your Abyssal Connection.”

Surely Doppelgänger was trying to distract him, to make him question his faith, but Heinwald would not give up. Even if his hands bled to the bone, he would save the Cardinal. Heinwald squinted his eyes shut as he fought through the pain, continuously chanting his spell of healing.

“Heinwald! Stop it already!” Curran snapped.

Heinwald opened his eyes, tears of sorrow and pain clouding his vision. Curran was at his limit. There was no way he could hold Doppelgänger back any longer. Heinwald fell to the ground as Curran released his grip on the Cardinal. Curran grabbed their weapons and took Heinwald by the arm, rushing the two of them out of the Church.

“Curran no!” Heinwald begged, “We have to go back! If… If I keep trying to heal him… then maybe… Maybe I’ll…”

“You were gonna kill yourself at that rate!” Curran scolded, “I ain’t lettin’ you die on me. We need to get you to safety.”

“But… But the Cardinal…”

“We can find another way to save him. But we can’t do it if you’re dead. We just need to get out of here before that fucker catches up and finishes us off.”

Heinwald looked down at Curran’s arm. It was covered in gashes and bruises from his fight with the struggling Doppelgänger. Yet he didn’t complain at all about the painful looking wounds. Instead, he only wanted to see Heinwald safe. Heinwald stopped struggling. Though he felt like a failure for not being able to save the Cardinal, Curran was just trying to look out for him.

The two rushed out of the Church, making their way to Heinwald’s manor. As Curran banged on the door, Heinwald’s adrenaline began to fade, and the pain of his wounds hit him like a pile of bricks. His hands stung in agony, the palms bleeding profusely. He felt like his chest was being crushed, and every breath taken in felt like daggers stabbing into his lungs. His vision was still blurred, even with his glasses on. It felt like his body had aged ten years. As soon as the maid came to answer the door, she shrieked in horror.

“L-lord Heinwald!” she panicked, “A-and Sir Curran! What happened to the two of you?”

“Please,” Curran pleaded, “Help me get Heinwald up to his bedroom. He’s in too much pain to heal his own wounds. Get some herbs, some gauze, anything to help his bleeding.”

“But… but you’re wounded as well,” the maid stammered.

“I’ll be fine. He needs more help than I do.”

“I… I’ll go get some help.”

Heinwald felt his strength waning, leaning into Curran’s shoulder to balance himself. Curran cradled him, gripping onto his shoulder with a look of concern plastered across his face. He was so tired. Heinwald just wanted to close his eyes and make the pain disappear.

“Don’t fall asleep on me yet, Heinwald,” Curran yelled, “We’re gonna heal you up. You’re gonna be ok.”

Heinwald moved his lips in an attempt to respond, yet only wind passed from his lips. He felt his eyelids grow heavy as his body became weaker. If he could sleep, just close his eyes for a moment, then maybe…

“Hey, Heinwald!” Curran snapped, “I told you can’t fall asleep on me! I’m not gonna let you die from this!”

Heinwald’s vision went dark as his pain took over. The last thing he heard before losing consciousness was Curran crying out his name.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry the chapter took so long! I've been sick with a killer sinus infection all week, but finally I'm feeling well enough to write again!

Heinwald winced as he stirred awake. The last thing he remembered was passing out in Curran’s arms at the door to his manor, yet now he was tucked into his bed, his clothes changed into a more comfortable nightgown and his hands wrapped in gauze. His entire body ached, and he felt as though all of his energy had been sapped. Hazily, Heinwald reached to his nightstand, grabbing his glasses and positioning them over the bridge of his nose. As his vision cleared, he spotted Curran in the corner, discussing something with one of his maids.

“Sir Curran,” the maid said, “It looks like he’s finally awake.”

Curran turned around, walking over to the bed and kneeling down. He gently stroked Heinwald’s cheek, sighing in relief.

“You gave me quite the scare last night…” Curran said, “Wasn’t expecting you to knock out like that, but at least you’re ok.”

“What… what happened?” Heinwald wondered.

“You pushed yourself way too hard trying to exorcise the Cardinal. Thankfully your servants here were able to get a hold of an apothecary last night.”

Heinwald looked down to his hands, completely bandaged up in white gauze. He attempted to move his fingers, immediately cringing in pain.

“Don’t think you’ll be able to hold your staff for a few days,” Curran confessed, “The apothecary said that you skinned your palms raw. Normally his tinctures could clear it up, but he mentioned something about black mana making the wound fester.”

“Black mana…” Heinwald said to himself, “So I really couldn’t save the Cardinal then… it really wasn’t a nightmare…”

Heinwald attempted to stand up out of bed, only to be pushed back down by Curran.

“And where do you think you’re going?” Curran scolded.

“I need to save the Cardinal…” Heinwald murmured.

“With your hands all beat up and your body drained like that? Going back right now would be suicide.”

“I don’t care! I need to get that monster out of his body before…”

Curran shook his head, walking over to Heinwald’s vanity to pick up a hand held mirror. Before Heinwald could force himself out of bed, Curran shoved the mirror in his face, making Heinwald fall back into his pillows in shock. Half of his jet-black hair had turned silver and his already fair complexion had turned even paler, making his skin look as white as a ghost.

“My… my hair…” Heinwald mumbled in disbelief, “What happened to me?”

“The apothecary thinks it’s a result of you using your magic so much in succession,” Curran informed, “Said you were using too much mana at once, and because of that, your spells started sapping the mana from your body. It’s a miracle you woke up so soon with how much you drained yourself.”

Heinwald twirled his now silver strands between his fingers in disbelief. He always knew that casting the same spell in succession without pause was bad for a mage’s health, but he never thought it would affect him this badly. It was as if his body had aged ten years just from forcing himself to rapidly cast his heals. This was something all mages were taught, yet he never took it to heart until now. This lapse in reason could have cost him his life. It was a good thing Curran was there to snap him out of it before it was too late. He rolled onto his side, turning his back to Curran.

“Well, then what am I to do in the mean time?” Heinwald worried, “A mage who cannot use magic is worthless. Am I to just sit around here twiddling my thumbs while Doppelganger could be furthering his nefarious scheme?”

“Fraid so,” Curran sighed, “No case is worth killing yourself over. Look, why don’t you just rest and let your wounds heal?”

“Odd of you to be so concerned with my health…”

“You wanna lose an eye or a hand like me?”

Curran lifted his eyepatch, revealing a scar seared into his sunken socket. Heinwald looked down to the metal covering Curran’s right hand. Since they had met, Heinwald hadn’t the courage to ask if it was a prosthetic or armor, yet his question was soon answered when Curran twisted it off, dropping it onto Heinwald’s lap.

“So, that wasn’t armor then…” Heinwald gaped.

“Heh, did you think it was just for show?” Curran chuckled, pain lingering in his voice, “Fortunately I’m a leftie, but this’ll happen to you too if you’re too reckless.”

Curran grabbed the prosthetic from Heinwald, twisting it back onto his arm until it snapped back in place. He flexed the metal fingers, as if his nerves had been connected to the fake hand by some sort of magic. Heinwald was amazed at the technology behind it, but he would never want one for himself.

“I’ll try to rest then,” he conceded reluctantly, “But may I ask you a favor Curran?”

“Go ahead,” Curran assured.

“Would you mind going off into town to do some independent investigation? I know I shouldn’t be thinking about the case right now, but I hate feeling powerless like this. If you can find out anything that could help me exorcize the Cardinal, it would be duly appreciated.”

“I can do that, but we ain’t gonna go back to fight ol’ Doppel until you can at least hold your staff.”

“I understand.”

Curran brushed the silver bangs from Heinwald’s face, kissing him gently on the forehead. Heinwald leaned into the soft touch of Curran’s fingers against his scalp, closing his eyes as he caressed his soft strands of hair.

“Gonna miss your pure black hair, but some silver ain’t a bad look on you,” Curran said.

“Well, there isn’t really anything I can do about it now…” Heinwald sighed, “I still would have never expected to go gray at the ripe age of 25…”

“Wear it with pride. It means you survived.”

Curran withdrew his hand, proceeding to the door before looking back at Heinwald reassuringly.

“Get some rest, kitten,” he cooed.

Curran closed the door behind him before nodding to the butler waiting outside.

“Make sure he stays in bed,” he ordered.

The butler bowed, “Understood, Sir Curran. I will ensure Lord Heinwald gets his rest.”

Curran smirked. Even though he and Heinwald had only been partners for a considerably short time, he could tell Heinwald was not the kind of man to simply agree to rest up when there was work to do. That man was a workaholic through and through, and even if it cost him his life, he would attempt to see the job through to completion in a timely manner. If it were any other expendable partnership, Curran wouldn’t care. His partner’s reckless behavior wouldn’t affect him getting paid in the end. But with Heinwald, it was different. He had broken through Curran’s tough, jaded exterior, becoming partnered with him on a far more intimate level. Curran hadn’t felt this way for someone else in years, and he was determined to not let him go. He wouldn’t have him die on his watch.

Curran grabbed his coat and ax from the closet in the manor’s foyer, heading out the front door and into town. A brisk wind blew throughout the village, making grass in the fields ripple like waves on the ocean. People seemed to happily carry on their daily lives as Curran passed by. Merchants were peddling their wares at the farmers market. The smell of freshly brewed coffee wafted from nearby cafes. Children in uniforms marched to the schoolhouse for a day of learning and fun with their friends. As Curran dragged his feet along the cobblestone path, he stopped in front of the bakery, the smell of freshly baked bread tantalizing him.

“Heinwald does love his sweets,” he said to himself, “Maybe I should get him a cake. That might make him feel a bit better.”

Curran pushed open the door to the bakery, a bell jingling inside to let the employees know a new customer had arrived. Girls chatted at the round, wooden tables, happily eating sweets and sipping tea. The employees behind the counter arranged pastries in the glass display case while chefs in the kitchen piped intricate designs onto cakes. Curran approached the cashier, examining the display case for a pastry that Heinwald might like.

“What can I do for you today, sir?” the cashier asked.

“Hmm… What’s your most popular flavor of cake?” Curran asked.

“That would be our Earl Grey Chiffon Cake. We infuse the sponge with our finest tealeaves and frost it with a light Chantilly crème. It’s especially popular amongst young women.”

“Sounds like somethin’ he’d like. Can you guys write something on it with icing?”

“Of course. What did you want written on it?”

“Get Well Soon.”

The cashier pulled the cake from the display case. The icing was pure white with violets and vines piped along the sides in icing. He passed it back to the kitchen, telling a chef the message to write atop the confection.

“Is the cake for your girlfriend?” the cashier wondered.

“Somethin’ like that,” Curran chuckled.

“We can have the chef write her name if you like. Perhaps they could even put a few hearts around the message.”

“Nah, ‘Get Well Soon’ is fine.”

The cashier relayed the message to the chef, standing by as they piped “Get Well Soon” onto the cake. He took it from the chef as soon as it was finished, showing it to Curran to get his confirmation that the message was sufficient.

“Will that be all for today?” the cashier asked.

“Yeah,” Curran replied, dumping a handful of rupies onto the counter.

The cashier rung his order up before boxing up the cake and handing it to him. Curran took the box from him and turned around to leave the bakery.

“Have a good day sir,” the cashier bowed.

As soon as Curran stepped out of the bakery and into the town square, a chill went up his spine. A mass of people had congregated in front of the Church. At the front of the mob, was the Cardinal, surrounded by Inquisitors.

“My beloved citizens,” the Cardinal announced, “I apologize for interrupting what would otherwise be a peaceful day in our beloved town, but I fear my announcement is of the utmost importance. Last night, an attempt was made on my life.”

The crowd burst into concerned murmurs.

“Fear not my dear people,” the Cardinal assured, “I am fortunately uninjured, but this was no ordinary assassination attempt. I have taken time from my busy schedule to make an announcement of public disdain for this wretched heretic who would perform such cruel treachery against the Holy Church.”

Curran swallowed hard. He did not like where this was going.

“The identity of the assassin may come as a shock to you all,” the Cardinal informed, “He is someone who I once considered the pride of the Inquisition, yet he has now shown his true colors as a foul heretic. Yes, the one who attempted to take my life last night was none other than, Heinwald, the former top Inquisitor.”

Curran dropped the cake in shock, “No…”

“Not only did this heretic attempt to murder me, I have also recently been informed that he has engaged in sodomy, a vile crime in the eyes of Ilia,” the Cardinal accused, “He has laid with another man as if he was a woman, consenting to breaking his holy vow of chastity in a method the Church deems most unholy. Therefore, I hereby excommunicate this heretic, and I shall place a bounty on his head. Whoever apprehends this fiend, dead or alive, shall be kindly rewarded for their services.”

Curran rushed out of the town square, trying to block out the hisses and boos of disdain towards Heinwald. He had to get back to the manor. The town was no longer safe. They needed to escape.

***

Heinwald turned the page of his book, slightly wincing as his hand came in contact with the page. Doing anything with his hands hurt, but if he were to be confined to his bed with nothing to do, he would certainly die of boredom. Suddenly, the door to his room swung open. He looked up to see Curran panting in his doorway, sweat beading down his forehead.

“Heinwald,” he choked, “We need to leave. Now.”

“What’s wrong?” Heinwald wondered, “I thought you said I needed bed rest.”

“I’ve got some terrible news… You’re not gonna like it at all.”

Before Curran could break the news, a maid came running into the room, a look of panic on her face.

“Lord Heinwald!” she shrieked, “A mob of bounty hunters and mercenaries are heading towards the manor. They’re… they’re coming to take you in…”

“Take me in?” Heinwald asked, “For what?”

“They say you’ve been excommunicated… That you have been accused of sodomy and attempted murder against the Cardinal!”

Color drained from Heinwald’s face. His body froze, shivering uncontrollably. He moved his lips as if attempting to squeak out his shock, yet his words seemed stuck in his throat.

“Ex…” he choked, “Excommunicated?”

“We need to go,” Curran sighed.

He grabbed a handful of Heinwald’s clothes, his ax, and Heinwald’s staff and yanked Heinwald out of bed. Heinwald’s legs gave out from the shock, making him crumble onto the floor. Tears poured from his eyes, glazed over in despair.

“Excommunicated…” he whimpered, “They… they excommunicated me…”

“Heinwald now isn’t the time! We need to get out of here now!” Curran snapped.

“They think I’m a heretic… Everyone thinks I have betrayed the Goddess…”

Heinwald felt a sharp slap against his cheek.

“GET A HOLD OF YOURSELF!” Curran scolded, “NOW AIN’T THE TIME TO WALLOW IN SELF PITY! ‘LESS YOU WANT TO BE TAKEN OUTTA HERE IN IRONS AND MEET THE HEADMANS AX, WE NEED TO ESCAPE.”

Heinwald’s body went limp. The shock of his excommunication was clearly too much for him to bear. Curran shook his head, putting down his ax and Heinwald’s staff.

“You leave me no choice…” Curran growled.

Curran swept Heinwald off of his feet, carrying him to the doorway.

“If you ain’t gonna move, I’m gonna just have to help you get outta here myself,” he snarled, gripping onto Heinwald’s shoulder.

“Sir Curran,” the maid whimpered, “Please take care of Lord Heinwald. We… We will try as we will to keep the manor safe until you can return. Please get out and find sanctuary before it is too late…”

“I will…” Curran swore, “I’ll get him to safety.”

Curran carried Heinwald downstairs, rushing out the backdoor to the manor. Heinwald’s tears wet his shirt and though Heinwald was pretty light, Curran’s arms began to ache as he carried him, running away to find somewhere safe. It wouldn’t be long before wanted posters of Heinwald started popping up across Grastaea. Curran needed to think quick and find somewhere safe they could stay and plan their next move. Only one place came to mind. He looked around to ensure they weren’t being followed and bolted to a familiar part of town, the red light district. Seeing this area during the daytime was disoriented, as it seemed like a ghost town in comparison to the active nightlife. He looked around for that placard that he knew too well, the wooden sign with the rooster that would mark their sanctuary for the time being, The Angry Cock tavern.

As soon as Curran spotted the tavern, he barged in. The place was nearly empty, save for Ralph who was polishing glasses behind the bar. As soon as Ralph caught view of his regular patron and the man in his arms, he set the glass down, rushing to his aid.

“Cougar?” Ralph asked, concerned, “Is that Heinwald? What happened to his hands? What’s wrong with his hair? What’s going on?”

“We need you to hide us Ralph,” Curran panted, “Heinwald is wanted by the Church… They… They excommunicated him.”

“No way… Why?”

“It’s a long story… But he’s injured and in shock and I need to get him a room. I’ll do anything you need me to. Please, just let us stay here for tonight.”

Ralph turned to the wall, reaching up to grab a key to one of the tavern rooms off of a hook.

“Looks like you’ve got your hands full…” Ralph said, “Follow me upstairs. I’ll let you two stay the night.”

“I owe you one Ralph,” Curran sighed.

Ralph guided Curran upstairs, unlocking the door to one of the rooms. Curran sat down on the bed, laying Heinwald down next to him. He was still shivering, and tears still spilled from his eyes. Curran tried to calm him, but even stroking his hair, peppering kisses on his forehead, and holding him close would not ease his pain. He shook his head. Heinwald needed some space. Curran stood up from the bed, taking the key from Ralph and heading out of the room. He closed the door behind him to let Heinwald rest and followed Ralph downstairs.

“Poor guy,” Ralph said sympathetically, “He looks heartbroken.”

“He is…” Curran sighed, “Being excommunicated is really tough on someone as pious as him…”

“How did it even happen? Care to explain?”

“Well, ya know how Hein and I came here to question Douglass?”

“I remember.”

“Well we were working on a case for the Church. Turns out, this cult has been transplanting their souls into other people’s bodies for the sake of their deity, and they managed to plant their God’s soul into the body of the Cardinal of the Ilian Church.”

“Oh no…”

“Heinwald has been able to exorcise the cultists’ souls before, but trying to do the same with a deity was a bit too much for him to handle. That’s why his hands are all fucked up right now… We had to make a strategic retreat, but that bastard using the Cardinal’s body took advantage of our attempted exorcism and framed Heinwald for attempting to murder him…”

“That’s horrible… He was trying to do his job… To protect his boss, and this is the thanks he gets?”

“Fraid it only gets worse… You see, recently Heinwald and I… we kinda went all the way.”

Ralph blinked at him in surprise.

“Didn’t you say he was straight?” Ralph asked, “You didn’t force yourself on him, did you?”

“No, it was completely consensual,” Curran assured, “Findin’ out he liked me was a pleasant surprise, but I’m regretting my lack of restraint… I fucked him in the Church… and because of that, somehow, the ‘Cardinal’ found out and deemed him a heretic for committing sodomy…”

“You seriously had sex with him in public? Cougar you dog! You should have at least taken him to a hotel.”

“I couldn’t help myself! Do you think you’d be able to restrain yourself if a guy as cute as him said that he’d been fantasizing about you fucking him?”

“I mean, I kinda see your point, but I thought you out of all people would know how homophobic the Ilian Church is…”

“I know! I know! It’s my fault that he got accused of sodomy… That’s why I gotta take responsibility and keep him safe…”

“Never seen you this concerned for someone else, Cougar. You must really like this guy.”

“You have no idea… For him… for him I even thought I’d be willing to forgive the Ilian Church, but after what they did to him, after how badly they hurt him… I’ll never forgive those Church bastards… Even if the ‘Cardinal’ is possessed, those Inquisitors just accepted his declaration without any hesitation! They’re all sheep!”

“Look Cougar, I understand your anger, but Heinwald needs you. If you truly care about him like you say you do, you need to go back up there and comfort him.”

“Heh, I’ve tried. He’s completely heartbroken.”

“Maybe I could help you make a peace offering then?”

Ralph picked up a milkshake glass, shaking it in front of Curran.

“Ya know, somethin’ sweet might just cheer him up,” Curran chuckled.

“I’ll have a shake ready for him right away then,” Ralph smiled, “What flavor do you think he’d like?”

“Anything sickly sweet.”

“Maybe a cotton candy flavored one then.”

Curran watched as Ralph turned on the candy-floss machine behind the bar, spinning a fluffy cloud of cotton candy. He scooped up some ice cream, milk, and syrup, dumping it into a metal tin and shaking it vigorously to mix the ingredients. He poured the thick, blue beverage into a tall milkshake glass, topping it with the cloud of cotton candy and placing a straw in it.

“Here ya go,” Ralph smirked, “Hope it makes him feel better.”

“Thanks Ralph,” Curran replied.

He took the drink upstairs, stopping in front of the room Ralph had given them and unlocking the door. He opened it slowly, peeking in to see if Heinwald had moved. He was still in bed, but at least he has made himself comfortable under the covers. Curran crept inside, pulling up a chair to sit next to the bed.

“Heinwald,” Curran said, “I brought you something.”

“Is it a document saying that I have been readmitted to the Ilian Church?” Heinwald grumbled, “If not, I don’t want it…”

Curran shook his head, putting the milkshake down on the nightstand.

“Look,” he consoled, “I know it feels like the world is crumbling around you, but we will make this right. I promise.”

“Do you really think you know how I feel?” Heinwald snapped.

He jolted upward in bed, his face reddened and stained with tears. His eyes were bloodshot and snot dripped from his nose.

“I just lost everything, Curran!” Heinwald yelled, “My job, my home, my reputation… It’s all gone!”

“You still have me…” Curran said.

“YOU’RE THE REASON WHY ALL OF THIS HAPPENED! IF I NEVER MET YOU… IF WE HADN’T BECOME PARTNERS AND DONE SUCH CRUDE, SINFUL THINGS… I’D STILL BE AN INQUISITOR! I’D STILL HAVE A HOME TO RETURN TO! IT’S YOUR FAULT CURRAN! I HATE YOU!”

Curran balled his palm into a fist.

“You hate me, huh?” he growled, “Some thanks for saving you…”

“YOU DIDN’T SAVE ME!” Heinwald screamed, “YOU RUINED MY LIFE!”

“Heh, how did I not see that you were gay earlier… Since you’re so insistent on riding the Church’s dick…”

“Excuse me?”

“Why would you even want to go back to the Ilian Church… They’ve shown you their true colors. They’re nothing but a bunch of close-minded, holier-than-thou hypocrites!”

“How dare you… HOW DARE YOU SPEAK ILL OF THE CHURCH!”

“YOU’RE BETTER OFF WITHOUT THE CHURCH HEINWALD! EXCOMMUNICATION AIN’T THE END OF YOUR LIFE!”

“HOW WOULD YOU KNOW THAT? YOU’VE NEVER BEEN THROUGH THIS PAIN… YOU NEVER HAD THE CHURCH BETRAY YOU AND ABANDON YOU!”

“BUT I HAVE!”

Heinwald went silent. Curran rubbed the back of his neck in irritation.

“Fuck… me and my big fat mouth,” Curran cursed.

“What do you mean that you have?” Heinwald wondered.

“S’ppose I can’t hide it no longer… What if I told you that I used to be a pious follower of the Ilian Church?”

“You? You practiced the Ilian faith?”

“Not just that… I was trainin’ to be an Inquisitor an’ everything.”

Heinwald was shocked. He never would have suspected that Curran used to want to be an Inquisitor. What happened that made him abandon his faith and hate the Church so much?

“That is…” Curran sighed, “Until that day… The day I made the mistake of confessin’ to someone who would stab me in the back…”


	11. Chapter 11

Heinwald blinked in confusion, still trying to process what Curran had just said. He would never have believed that someone like Curran was formerly a practitioner of the Ilian faith.

“I…” Heinwald said, “I never saw your name on the record of Inquisitors. Surely you’re lying just to comfort me…”

“Heh, if only I made it to the rank of Inquisitor,” Curran scoffed, “Got kicked out when I was still in training. You were probably in the mage’s division, so you woulda never met me, you bein’ shipped off to learn spells at Caldia an’ all that. I trained at the main headquarters under the warrior division.”

Heinwald racked his brain. Though the different training divisions were separated by disciples of war and magic, rumors often spread fast, even between the main headquarters and Caldia. Now that he thought about it, he remembered a rumor that he overheard from fellow aspiring Inquisitors.

“I… I do remember overhearing something about one of the top candidates in the warrior division being expelled for heinous sins against the Ilian Church,” Heinwald recalled, “Was that you?”

“Heinous sins against the Ilian Church?” Curran sneered, “Is that what they called it. Just like ‘em to emrellish the story to fit their agenda.”

“Don’t you mean embellish?”

Curran scowled.

“Tryin’ to open up to you, and you have the balls to correct me?” he grunted.

“Sorry,” Heinwald apologized, “But what did you mean by embellishing the story to fit their agenda?”

“S’ppose I better tell you the whole thing from the beginning. When I was growin’ up, I was the poor son of a carpenter. Never had much, but my mama an’ pops did everything they could to make sure I was happy. Our village was a small one, far outside the Church town, but since it was positioned smack dab between two tradin’ towns, we had a pretty big thief problem…”

***

“Curran, could you be a dear and go help your father with the firewood?” Curran’s mother asked politely, “I’ll call you back in when dinner is ready.”

“Mmkay mama,” Curran replied.

He grabbed a small ax from the closet, heading out the door to his father’s storefront. Curran walked inside to see his father, hard at work chopping wood. He was a large, brawny man with a scruffy blonde beard sprouting from his chin. A cheerful smile stretched across his face when he saw his son. He put down his ax and knelt down to Curran, ruffling his shaggy blonde hair.

“Came to help your old man out, sport?” he chuckled.

“Yes’m,” Curran responded, “Mama said we needed some more firewood.”

Curran’s father stood up, grabbing some smaller logs from his collection and handing them to his son.

“These might need to be split, but you’ve gotten so big an’ strong. Think you can do ‘em on your own, sport?” he asked.

“I got it, pops!” Curran smiled, heaving his ax over his shoulder.

“Feels like I’m lookin’ in a mirror! You’re gettin’ more and more like your old man everyday!”

Curran set down one of the logs, raising his ax above his head before striking it down into the wood, splitting the log in half. He proceeded to hack down the rest of the wood until it became manageable firewood and kindling. Just as he was about to finish, he heard a woman’s scream from a nearby house, followed by deranged laughter from multiple, unknown voices. His father froze in fear.

“Clara…” he fretted.

“Mama?” Curran worried, “Pops! That sounded like mama!”

“Stay here, I’ll go check on her.”

“But pops!”

“I don’t want to put you in danger, Curran. Don’t worry, your old man has got this.”

Curran’s father grabbed his ax, heading out of his workshop and over to their small cottage. Curran peeked out the crack in the door, spotting a gaggle of thieves ransacking the town. Village men attempted to fight off the attackers with their meager tools of trade, but many were struck down in cold blood by the armed bandits. He turned his gaze to his cottage, seeing his father disappear into the house. The sound of steel clashing against steel rung out through his ears, chilling him to the bone. He knew that his father said it was dangerous, but he wanted to help. Curran gripped at his feeble ax before charging out the door, heading over to his house. He screamed as soon as he opened the door. His father lay convulsing on the floor, bleeding out from a huge gash in his stomach. His mother had been stripped naked, and was being fondled and violated by the bandits. Tears flowed from her eyes as she spotted her son.

“Curran,” she cried, “Look away. Get out of here!”

“Heh, so this is your brat?” one of the thieves scoffed.

“Pops… mama…” Curran trembled, “What did you do? Stop hurting my parents!”

Curran lunged at the bandit assaulting his mother, swinging his small ax at his leg. It just barely nicked his thigh, but was enough to get the thief off of her.

“OUCH!” he screamed, “YOU FUCKIN’ BRAT! I’LL KILL YA!”

“Curran…” his father coughed, “Run…”

Curran stood his ground. He knew they were too strong for him, but he would rather die fighting to help his parents than run away like a coward. Right as the bandit began to charge at him with his sword, the door to their cottage swung open, a man in white rushing in to intercept the blow with his lance. He countered the attack skillfully, spinning his weapon to knock the blade out of the bandit’s hand. The thief froze as the man in white pointed the tip of his lance at his throat.

“By order of the Ilian Church,” the man declared, “You are under arrest for rape, arson, theft, and murder! Do not resist. The Inquisition has the village surrounded. If you even move so much as an inch to hurt this family, I will plunge my lance into your neck.”

“Fuckin’ Church dog!” the thief hissed, “I’m just tryin’ to make a livin!”

“By taking the lives of others and assaulting women? Your feeble excuses could never hope to justify your crimes!”

Another man in white stepped into the room, a pair of irons in his hand. He handed the irons to Curran’s savior, who then clapped them around the thief’s hands. The other man in white bowed in adoration.

“High Inquisitor Thomas,” he said, “We have apprehended the rest of the bandits, are the civilians in here alright?”

“My… my pops was stabbed!” Curran yelled, “Please help him!”

Thomas looked over to Curran’s father, who was writhing in pain on the floor.

“Bring in our healers,” Thomas ordered, “This man’s wound is too deep to force him to stand.”

“Understood sir!” the other man said, bowing and taking the thief with him.

Thomas knelt down to Curran’s mother, throwing a blanket over her nude body.

“Are you alright miss?” he asked sympathetically.

“Please help my husband…” she sobbed, “I don’t want Serge to die!”

“Your husband will be fine,” Thomas assured, “Our healers will patch him up forthwith. Are you injured?”

“Nothing more than a few bruises.”

“That’s good to hear. If only I had been here a moment sooner, perhaps your husband wouldn’t have been injured.”

Thomas looked over to Curran as a pair of white robed healers walked into the cottage, casting healing magic over his father’s wounds.

“Thank goodness your brave son was able to stall the thieves until we arrived,” he smiled, patting Curran on the head.

“I… I couldn’t do nothin’…” Curran whimpered, “You were the one who saved my mama and pops…”

“Nonsense. I saw you holding your own against that thief. You are a very brave young man. What is your name if you don’t mind me asking?”

“C-Curran…”

“Curran… Well Curran, hold your head up high. You’re a hero too.”

“Mr. Thomas… You said you were with the Ilian Inquisition right?”

“Yes, I am.”

“I… I want to get strong like you so I can protect my mama and pops… Can I become an Inquisitor too?”

“You’re a bit young for that right now, but how about this. When you turn fifteen, I will personally recommend you to the Inquisition. Then you can start training to join our force.”

“Really?”

“I promise.”

***

“Thomas made regular visits to my village after that,” Curran explained, “Said it was to ensure we didn’t get struck by bandits again, but he always made sure to come over to our cottage, either to spar or just say hi. He was like the older brother I never had. Anyway, soon as I turned 15, I took him up on that offer to begin my training process for the Inquisition. That’s where things started to go sour…”

“How so?” Heinwald wondered, “The rumors were all the more shocking because the recruit who was expelled was supposedly a prodigy.”

“Prodigy? Wouldn’t say that. I just worked my ass off day an’ night. Hardly even talked to no one because I was so focused on becoming the best Inquisitor I could be… Well… no one ‘cept him…”

“Who’s him?”

“My first love…”

***

Curran rushed down the hall of the church to the training room. He opened the gate to see a lanky boy with vibrant red hair shooting arrows at the training targets. He wiped the sweat from his freckled cheeks, smiling gently at Curran as he entered the room.

“Sorry I started training without you,” he chuckled, “Got a bit impatient.”

“No big deal,” Curran replied, “My fault for getting here late. You ready to spar Theo?”

Theo set down his bow and picked up a practice sword.

“Ready when you are,” Theo panted, “Come at me, Curran!”

***

“Theo…” Heinwald wondered, “You wouldn’t be referring to Theodore, would you? The Inquisition’s top sniper?”

“Heh, that’s him,” Curran responded, “We were inseparable back then.”

“I never would have thought that you and Theodore had history. He never mentioned you.”

“Wouldn’t doubt it. After all, he’s the bastard who got me excommunicated…”

Heinwald’s pupils shrunk.

“He what?” Heinwald gaped, “I thought you said he was your first love.”

“It was a one sided crush,” Curran confessed, “I thought he was adorable, and we were so close. We always told each other everything, but I was a fool for thinking his feelings were mutual…”

“How did he get you excommunicated? What happened?”

“Well, happened right before the two of us were about to become Inquisitors. I had just turned 21, and it was the week of our induction ceremony. ‘Course I knew that the Church preached that being gay was a sin, but I had suffered from one-sided pining for six years. Didn’t want it to continue on. Besides, I figured that Theo and I had gotten so close, even if he rejected me, he wouldn’t snitch on me for being gay. That was my biggest mistake…”

***

Curran breathed in deeply as he watched his fellow trainees get anointed with holy water, officially moving up from squires to Inquisitors. In a few days, he would be in their position, achieving his childhood dream of joining the Ilian Inquisition. Theo squeezed his hand, trying to hide his own excitement for their fast approaching induction date.

“Soon we’ll be joining them,” Theo beamed, “You nervous Curran?”

“Excited,” Curran replied, “What say after this ceremony we go down to the tavern and celebrate?”

“Curran, we aren’t Inquisitors yet. Why don’t we wait until after we’ve been inducted?”

“Yeah but it’s a Friday night! We can drink as much as we want without having to worry ‘bout being hung over at training the next day.”

“I suppose you do have a point… It is a bit unfortunate that our ceremony is in the middle of the week… You know what, why not. Might as well have a bit of fun.”

“That’s the spirit Theo!”

As soon as the ceremony ended, Curran and Theo left the church, heading out into the town square. The sun melted into the orange hued sky, tinting the clouds as pink as cotton candy. They proceeded through the town square, stopping in front of the village’s most popular bar, Bacchus’. Curran held the door open for Theo, showing him in before heading over to the bar and taking a seat.

“Two stouts!” Curran called out to the bartender, holding up two fingers.

The bartender filled a pair of glass flagons to the brim with the dark beer, foam spilling over the rims as he slid them down to the patrons. Curran picked up his glass, raising it to Theo to propose a toast.

“To our new life as Inquisitors,” he cheered.

“Cheers!” Theo replied, clinking his glass against Curran’s.

The two took big gulps of their drinks, enjoying the cold and bitter, yet refreshing taste. Theo’s cheeks already began to grow rosy, his freckles standing out even more against his reddening skin.

“This hits the spot,” Theo breathed, “Good suggestion Curran.”

“Whadid I tell ya?” Curran replied, chugging down more of his stout.

“Nothing’s better than sharing good booze with good company.”

“I’ll drink to that.”

The two clinked their glasses together again once more, polishing off the rest of their beers. Theo exhaled calmly, his eyelashes fluttering and his amber eyes twinkling under the lights in the bar. Curran was completely captivated. He wanted to kiss all of his cute freckles, to run his fingers through his vibrant, ginger hair.

“Curran,” Theo said, “Should I order another round?”

Curran snapped back to reality.

“Uh, yeah, sure…” Curran sighed.

“Looks like the alcohol might be getting to you,” Theo chuckled, “Your face is bright red!”

Curran embarrassedly covered his blushing cheeks with his hand, looking aside to avoid eye contact with Theo.

“Uh, yeah…” he replied.

“I thought I was more of a lightweight than you,” Theo laughed, “This must be some strong stout.”

Curran sighed. He couldn’t help it anymore. If he didn’t tell Theo how he felt, it would eat him alive.

“Hey, Theo,” Curran started, “There’s… there’s somethin’ I gotta ask ya.”

“Fire away,” Theo responded.

“You don’t hate me, right?”

“What? Why would you think that?”

“I… I dunno… But you don’t think you ever could hate me right?”

“What reason would I have to? You’re my best friend!”

“Well… That’s good to hear I guess…”

Hearing Theo say “best friend” felt bittersweet. He was glad to know that Theo thought so highly of him, but he feared what would become of their friendship if he confessed. Curran shook his head. He had to steel himself and confess.

“Actually Theo,” he said, “There’s something else I have to tell you.”

“What is it?” Theo wondered.

“You see… I don’t think of you as my best friend.”

Theo paused, clasping his hands together and looking down sadly.

“Is that so…” Theo hummed.

“Theo, I…” Curran choked, “My feelings for you are far more special than that of a ‘best friend’…”

Theo blushed as Curran grabbed his hands, looking him straight in the eyes.

“I like you Theo,” Curran confessed, “As more than a friend. I want to go out with you.”

“You… you’re joking right?” Theo swallowed.

“I’m not. Theo… I’ve been in love with you for a while… I know that the Ilian Church teaches that homosexuality is a sin, but I still can’t shake these feelings for you. Please, be my boyfriend Theo.”

Theo’s face twisted into a scowl, and Curran was greeted with a sharp slap on the cheek.

“So all these years, you’ve just been wanting to fuck me…” he hissed, “I can’t believe I considered you a friend… You disgusting faggot.”

Curran’s heart sunk, “Theo, I…”

Theo pulled away from him, standing up from his barstool and looking at Curran in utter disgust.

“Don’t touch me,” he snapped, “You gross pervert… I never want to see you ever again!”

Without another word, Theo stormed out of the pub, leaving Curran heartbroken and confused at the bar.

***

“Curran,” Heinwald said sympathetically, hugging him tightly, “I’m so sorry. I had no idea Theodore hurt you like that.”

“If only it just ended there…” Curran sighed, “When I came back to the Church on Sunday for my morning prayer, I was swarmed by Inquisitors and fellow trainees alike, spitting all sorts of profanities at me…”

***

“Had no idea you were a fudge packer Curran,” one of his peers teased.

“Oh Goddess, he’s probably been checking us out in the changing room…” another one feared.

“What… what the hell are you talking about?” Curran swallowed hard.

Thei taunts and laughter was humiliating, but fortunately it looked like help was starting to arrive. Thomas, the High Inquisitor who had rescued Curran as a child interrupted the crowd, parting the sea of young men tormenting him.

“Ah, Thomas,” Curran sighed, “You’re a sight for sore eyes. Mind helping me out here?”

Thomas scowled, “Leave this place at once. You desecrate the Ilian Church with your presence.”

Curran froze. Even his childhood hero had come to hate him. What did Theo tell everyone?

“It appears that you are unaware of the situation,” Thomas scolded, “You have been excommunicated from the Ilian Church for raping your peer Theodore. He came to me in tears the other night, telling me that you forced yourself on him and violated him.”

Color drained from Curran’s face.

“That…” he choked, “That’s a lie! I confessed to him, but I didn’t rape him! I would never do something like that! I…”

“Save your breath, faggot,” Thomas snapped, “Leave this place and never come back. Be thankful that I am not sending you to the dungeons for what you did.”

***

Heinwald balled his fists, shaking in anger.

“That’s wrong…” Heinwald whimpered, “That’s so wrong! You didn’t even touch him! How could he get away with lying to the High Inquisitor like that?”

“Like I said,” Curran explained, “The Ilian Church will believe any lie so long as it fits their agenda. Confessing to Theo was hammering the last nail into my own coffin. He could tell them anything he wanted, regardless of whether it was true or not. Those Church dogs believe that all gay men are evil, so ‘course they’d believe Theo when he accused me of raping him without a speck of proof. Ironic ain’t it? Me, someone who saw my mother raped right in front of me, someone who despises rapists with every fiber of my being, accused of somethin’ like that..”

“I can’t believe it… Curran I’m so sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing? You weren’t the one who stabbed me in the back.”

“I know but… you’ve been working for the people who hurt you so much… who turned their back on you and called you a rapist when you didn’t do anything wrong… and I defended them.”

Curran kissed Heinwald on the forehead, stroking his cheek gently.

“You don’t gotta be sorry for nothin’ Heinwald,” Curran cooed, “All I ask if that you stay with me and give me your love. I honestly don’t think I’ll ever forgive the Church, but being with you at least helps me forget.”

“Curran…” Heinwald whispered, “I… I’m sorry to ask… I know that you’d probably rather see the Church crumble after everything you went through… But I still want to save the Cardinal… And now I don’t just want to clear my name, I want to clear yours too. I want to expose Theodore for lying about you, and maybe even get you reinstated as an Inquisitor too.”

“You don’t gotta do that for me. Long as we don’t gotta live on the run I’ll be fine. Being a wanted man is a pain in the ass.”

“That reminds me… If the Church excommunicated you, why wouldn’t the other Inquisitors throw you in the dungeons once you started working with me?”

“Probably cuz they didn’t recognize me. Whydya think I go by Cougar most of the time? My appearance has certainly changed enough that they wouldn’t be able to tell that we were once peers, what with my scars, my arm, and my eye. The Curran that the Inquisition knows is dead, and only the Cougar remains. “

“But… you still let me call you Curran, even thought I am… well, _was_ an Inquisitor.”

“I only give out my real name to people I trust. Dunno if it was love at first sight makin’ me have a lapse in judgement, but I never regretted telling you my name. Let them think of me as the Cougar, as long as I can be Curran to you.”

“Curran… I promise you I’ll make things right, but we can’t leave this job unfinished. We’ll save the Cardinal, clear our names, and I don’t care what happens from there on out, as long as I can be with you. I’ll stay by your side. I promise this.”

Heinwald kissed Curran lovingly on the lips, pulling him onto the bed and holding him close. Curran closed his eyes, returning the kiss. He ran his fingers through Heinwald’s hair, massaging his scalp gently as they kissed passionately. By the time Curran pulled away, Heinwald’s face was tinted red with blush.

“I love you, Heinwald,” Curran confessed.

“I love you too, Curran,” Heinwald smiled.


	12. Chapter 12

Heinwald inhaled deeply as a rough hand roused him from his slumber. He yawned, rubbing his eyes as he reached for his glasses from the nearby nightstand. As soon as his vision became clear, he saw Curran, sitting up next to him under the covers. He was in nothing but his smallclothes, his undershirt damp with sweat. His normal partially slicked back hair was disheveled with bedhead and his bad eye remained soldered shut without his eyepatch to cover it up.

“Did you sleep alright?” Curran asked, “I know the beds here probably ain’t as comfortable as the one in your manor.”

“Yeah I slept fine,” Heinwald replied.

“Hope you didn’t mind sharing a bed. Most of these rooms are meant for… well… you know, so rooms with two beds aren’t exactly in high demand. Wasn’t too cramped for you, was it?”

“No it was fine. Actually, I enjoyed sleeping next to you. It was nice.”

Curran kissed Heinwald gently on the cheek before getting out from under the covers.

“That’s good,” Curran smiled, “As much as I’d like to stay in bed with you, I’m afraid we don’t have that luxury. We need to leave town before the Inquisition catches word of us being here. Much as I don’t want to put you in danger, I don’t want to get Ralph in trouble either for harboring two criminals.”

“I understand,” Heinwald replied, “Do we owe him anything for the room? I’m afraid I didn’t have time to grab any rupies.”

“I’ll double check with him, but Ralph is an understanding guy. I’m sure I’ll be able to work something out with him.”

Heinwald gripped onto the bedsheets. Funds normally weren’t an issue for him, but now that he was on the run, he was penniless. Curran didn’t even have time to grab weapons for them. All he had was the extra set of clothes that Curran had hastily picked out for him so he wouldn’t be wandering around in his nightgown. What were he and Curran going to do about food, about lodging? He couldn’t do manual labor right now, not with his hands still healing. Heinwald didn’t want Curran shouldering the burden of paying or working for everything while he just sat around doing nothing.

“I remember back when we did our investigation here, Ralph said he found me attractive…” Heinwald offered reluctantly, “If we don’t have enough rupies to cover tonight’s room… maybe I could… I could…”

“No. Absolutely not,” Curran immediately shot down, “No matter how cute you are, Ralph ain’t the kinda guy to accept sex for payment. He respects his customers too much, even the ones who rack up a huge tab. Besides, I don’t plan on sharing you now that you’re mine.”

Heinwald blushed, “Will we have enough money to live on though? I don’t know how long it will take for my hands to heal, nor how long it will take to figure out how to properly exorcise the Cardinal. What will we do when our money runs out?”

“Who says we’re gonna be stayin’ in inns every night? If we’re outta cash, we’ll camp out, hunt and gather for food, and find springs for water. There are also tons of adventurer guilds and public request boards where we can pick up bounties to hunt.”

“Is that really going to be our life for a while?”

“That’s the life of a bounty hunter. You’ll get used to it after a while. I hated it at first, but I’ve done it for five years to make ends meet. Ain’t the most glorious but it keeps my stomach full and a roof over my head on most nights.”

“Well… I suppose you do what you must to survive… Now, where did you put my change of clothes?”

“Threw ‘em in one of the drawers of my nightstand.”

“Thank you.”

As Curran threw on his clothes, adjusted his eyepatch, slicked his hair back, and snapped on his metal arm, Heinwald opened up the drawer, pulling out the clothes that Curran had chosen for him. It was a long, black, hooded robe lined with purple silk, along with a black undercoat, a white, cravatted chemise, a simple, brown leather belt, and a pair of black slacks. It wasn’t his favorite outfit, but at least the black would hide the stains of being on the run.

Once the two were dressed, they headed downstairs to meet with Ralph. To their surprise, he wasn’t behind the bar, but in the kitchen instead, packing up a parcel of dried meats, breads, and cheeses along with a canteen filled with fresh water.

“Got a picnic date later today Ralph?” Curran asked.

Ralph tied up the parcel with some twine before handing it off to Curran.

“Nope, these are for you two,” Ralph offered.

“Ralph, this is too much,” Heinwald sighed, “Don’t you need these for the pub?”

“Nah, these were left over from yesterday night’s rush,” Ralph explained, “Usually, I donate my scraps to the local homeless shelter, but I think I have enough that I can give some of them to you guys.”

“You’re so kind,” Heinwald said.

“Ah it’s nothin’,” Ralph chuckled, “Used to be homeless for a while m’self. Figured now that I’ve got a nice steady job, I gotta help out people in a bad spot. Get some good karma ya know?”

Curran leaned over to Heinwald, whispering in his ear.

“Ralph used to be a noble like you,” Curran informed, “Told me his parents threw him out once he came out. Cut him off without a single rupie.”

“Oy, ‘s rude to go spillin’ other people’s secrets, Cougar,” Ralph scolded, “Should I tell Hein ‘bout your past for a bit of revenge then?”

“Already told him,” Curran replied, “Thought it was best to not keep secrets from the people you care about.”

“Ralph,” Heinwald wondered, “Is it true? Were you really a nobleman?”

“Yeah, ‘s true,” Ralph confessed, rubbing the back of his neck, “Bet ya wouldn’t think that from lookin’ at me. My parents weren’t too keen on their only heir being a queer and endin’ their bloodline, so they disowned me. But that doesn’t matter now. I’ve worked my way back up from nothin’. Who I was doesn’t matter to me anymore.”

“Is that why you looked out for me back when we came here to investigate?” Heinwald asked.

“I’ve seen too many homeless gay and lesbian kids raped or forced into prostitution to make ends meet,” Ralph grimaced, “I know it’s a fool’s errand to try an’ end this problem all by m’self, but if I can do something as small as give ‘em food to keep ‘em from starvin’, offer ‘em a bed for the night, or keep ‘em from bein’ touched against their will, makes me feel like I’ve taken a step in the right direction.”

“You’re such a good man Ralph,” Heinwald said, “I don’t know if I can ever repay you for your kindness.”

“Repayment ain’t necessary,” Ralph smiled, “Long as you’re safe an’ happy, that’s the only payment I need.”

“You’ve done so much for us already,” Curran said, “And I really appreciate it, but if you don’t mind, do you have any old knives I can take with us? Unfortunately I had to leave my ax behind and Heinwald isn’t in the best state to use his magic at the moment. Once the food runs dry, I’ll need somethin’ to hunt with.”

“I got ya,” Ralph replied, walking over to the cupboard and pulling out an old knife, “Was just about to throw it away, but with a bit of sharpening, it could make a decent hunting dagger.”

Curran took the knife, giving it a few test swishes to see if he could wield it. He wasn’t used to using such a lightweight weapon. Curran had become so accustomed to his heavy, slow blow, fighting style with his battle ax that using such a lightweight weapon was a bit disorienting. At least it was better than fighting barehanded. He wrapped it up in a rag before sheathing it under his belt.

“Thanks again for everything, Ralph,” Curran said.

“Just be safe,” Ralph replied.

Curran tucked away the provisions that Ralph had saved for him before giving Ralph a big hug.

“We will be,” Curran promised, “Heinwald, we need to get going.”

“Ok…” Heinwald nodded.

Curran grabbed onto Heinwald’s arm, waving off to Ralph as they left. Ralph nodded his head, one last wish of luck on their escape. They left through the back door of the tavern, heading to the dense forest on the outskirts of town. As they trekked deep into the woods, Heinwald started to feel unsettled. He didn’t even know the destination they were bound for.

“So, where are we going?” Heinwald wondered.

“Anywhere other than here,” Curran replied.

Heinwald’s heart sunk.

“So we’re just going to be wandering aimlessly?” he fretted, “Curran what if we get lost in the middle of nowhere?”

“Well if we do, it’ll make it harder for the Inquisition to find us,” Curran answered, “Besides, though it’ll take a while for word to spread of the bounty on your head, big cities will still be dangerous.”

“But how else will we find a way to exorcise the Cardinal? I doubt that forest creatures or peasants in small towns will have the information we need.”

“Ya never know. But if you’re really that insistent on finding a large city to research in, it’d have to be pretty far away, at least a week’s journey on foot. Think you can handle that?”

“I’d rather spend a week on foot looking for a certain destination than days potentially walking in circles. Do you even know of such a place, Curran?”

“I do remember a port town to the south that might make a good hiding place. Normally ports aren’t great for hidin’ since rumors fly around there all the time, but considering they get so many travellers, we wouldn’t have to worry about not blending in.”

“And you know the way there?”

“Vaguely. You’ll just have to trust me.”

“I suppose I don’t really have any other choice.”

“Quit your worryin’. We’ll get there safe ‘n sound.”

“If you insist…”

Curran and Heinwald continued through the forest, carefully navigating the uneven terrain. Curran lead the way, helping Heinwald over protruding tree roots, across babbling streams, and under low hanging branches. Deer and rabbits turned their heads at the two travellers passing through their terrain, some skipping away from the unknown, potential threat, some remaining to continue grazing on the herbs, berries, and grasses of the woods.

They didn’t look back, only proceeding further into the heart of the woods. Periodically, Curran would open up the canteen Ralph had given him, taking a sip of the water and offering some to Heinwald. The water was lukewarm, but it was a balm to his parched throat, only made dryer by their hours of hiking. Curran made certain to take a fair share of rest stops as well. Though Heinwald’s injuries were on his hands, he thought it would be better for him to not overexert himself. Heinwald plopped down on a boulder catching his breath as Curran looked around the woods.

“What are you even searching for Curran?” Heinwald wondered.

“Tryin’ to find the river’s source,” Curran replied, “It’s gotta be comin’ from a spring, so that’ll be where we set up camp for the night.”

“Thinking about that already? I thought we were only walking for a few hours. Shouldn’t it be around noon?”

“It’ll take a while to find the right spot, then setting up camp will be quite the endeavor. Haven’t you ever camped out with the Inquisition?”

“I have, but usually we have ample supplies. Tents, sleeping bags, plenty of food and water…”

“Heh, you’ve been spoiled. This is what it’s really like to rough it. But hey, this’ll probably be a good experience for ya. You’ll get some survival skills and maybe even put a bit of muscle on. I’m a bit bummed about that last part though. It’ll be a shame to ruin your cute, slender body.”

Heinwald scowled.

“Pardon me for not having much muscle definition,” Heinwald scoffed, “Physical strength is unnecessary for magecraft.”

“Have ya ever considered picking up a martial art?” Curran wondered, “Magic is cool an’ all, but what’re ya gonna do if you come across an area where the dark mana is sparse? Whack people with your staff?”

“I have been fortunate enough to be with other Inquisitors whenever I was in that situation. But, I suppose you do have a point… I highly doubt I’d be able to wield an ax though.”

“Hey you don’t see me slingin’ spells. We can find a weapon better suited to your taste.”

Curran’s eyes lit up, suddenly remembering the knife that Ralph had given him. He pulled it out and looked it over before walking back to Heinwald.

“Maybe you can give the dagger a try when your hands heal up,” he suggested, “It’s lightweight, agile, and you can always try throwin’ it if you don’t like melee combat.”

“It’s the only weapon we have,” Heinwald sighed, “I suppose I can give it a try.”

Heinwald reached out to the dagger, only for Curran to yank it away before he could so much as touch the hilt.

“I said _after_ you’ve healed,” he scolded, “Don’t wanna see you getting even more hurt. Anyway, you rested enough to walk? Based on the river’s flow, a spring shouldn’t be too far away.”

“I suppose,” Heinwald replied, standing up, “Let’s find that spot to camp out then.”

Curran took Heinwald’s arm, guiding him down the riverbed. They followed the flow of water upstream until they reached a small clearing where water pooled in a swirling spring. The trees in the area were spread out slightly, presenting the perfect spot for the two to camp out. Curran set down the parcel of supplies that Ralph had given him, wiping sweat from his forehead.

“This’ll do,” Curran said, “You sit down and make yourself comfortable. I’ll grab us some firewood.”

“Do you need any help?” Heinwald asked.

“I’ll be fine. Ralph packed us enough food to last us a few days if we ration it, so I don’t have to worry about hunting or fishing. We’ll just need firewood to keep us from freezin’ tonight.”

“Do you know how to start a fire?”

“Of course I do. Don’t tell me they didn’t even teach you how to do that in the Inquisition…”

Heinwald lowered his head embarrassedly. He never gave Curran much credit for his intelligence, but he surprisingly knew a lot about the world and how to survive.

“Man you really were spoiled,” Curran chuckled, “Just sit tight, I’ll be right back with the firewood.”

Before Heinwald could say anything, Curran had already disappeared from the clearing and into the woods. Heinwald laid back into the soft grass of the forest floor, closing his eyes as the chirping of cicadas, tweeting of birds, and babbling of the spring filled his ears. They may be safe for now, but Heinwald still couldn’t help but worry with the Inquisition on their tail. What would become of them when their food ran out? Would they be able to find food and water in the terrains they crossed until they reached their destination? Would they get mugged by ruffians or caught by the Inquisition before they even made it to the port town? Worries clouded Heinwald’s thoughts.

“I’ve got the firewood,” Curran shouted, carrying an armful of twigs and branches out to the clearing, “I’ll start the fire, you can help yourself to the food that Ralph packed for us.”

Heinwald nodded. Seeing Curran somehow made his anxieties melt away. Around him he felt safe, protected. He hated being a burden, but he secretly enjoyed having Curran taking care of him. A smirk spread across Heinwald’s face as a wave of calm passed over him. With Curran at his side, he’d surely be safe.


	13. Chapter 13

Heinwald prodded the dimming fire with a stick, trying to stoke the burning embers before adding more kindling. It was getting dark, the full moon high in the sky. A wolf howled in the distance and the hooting of owls filled the air. Heinwald looked down at his half eaten piece of bread, slowly picking away at it.

“Eat,” Curran ordered, his mouth full with dried meat, “You’ll need the energy for tomorrow.”

“I don’t feel particularly hungry…” Heinwald replied, setting his piece of bread back in the parcel of food, “Just a bit tired.”

“It is gettin’ late. Well if you wanna get some shut eye, you can. I’ll take the first shift.”

“The first shift? We’ll be sleeping in shifts?”

“You don’t want a bear to come an’ ransack our food right? Or the fire to blow out? One of us has gotta stay awake for part of the night so we can keep watch.”

“I suppose that makes sense… Are you certain you’ll be fine staying up later?”

“I can last on an all nighter if need be. You just get some rest.”

Heinwald lay down on the soft grass, setting his glasses aside on their provisions for safekeeping. The night air was a bit chilly, making him shiver, even under his layers of clothing. He wasn’t used to sleeping on the damp ground. Heinwald missed his warm bed, his feather-soft pillows and silken sheets. He knew Curran said that after a while, he would get used to this kind of life, but it was quite the 180 from the lifestyle he had grown up with. His life went from riches to rags, from hero to zero. If not for Curran, he was uncertain that he’d be able to find a reason to continue on. His eyes began to grow heavy, sleep eventually taking him.

As soon as Heinwald had drifted asleep, Curran walked over to him, taking the coat off of his shoulders to drape over Heinwald. He gently caressed his scalp, smiling as he watched the calming rise and fall of his chest.

“You look like you were freezing,” Curran said, “I’m sorry that you had to get pulled into this mess.”

Heinwald didn’t respond; not that Curran was expecting an answer. Curran was just happy that Heinwald was safe, that he could sleep soundly and recover. He gently kissed Heinwald on the lips. It was a light, chaste peck, but still carried the warmth of Curran’s affection. As he pulled away, he noticed that Heinwald’s lips puckered slightly in response, as if he was instinctively returning the kiss, even while fast asleep.

“You’re so cute,” Curran chuckled, “Rest well, Heinwald. I will make everything right. We’ll get your old life back. I promise you.”

***

Heinwald stretched, his eyes fluttering open as he awakened. The sun had just started to creep over the horizon and the hooting of owls had made way for the chirping of larks. He turned to Curran, who was just putting out the fire. Dark bags sunk under his eyes, but he still grinned through it.

“Did you sleep well?” Curran asked.

“I thought you said we were going to be sleeping in shifts,” Heinwald yawned, “I didn’t sleep through mine, did I?”

“Nah, I just didn’t wake you up for it. You looked so peaceful, I didn’t want to disturb you.”

“But what about you? Don’t tell me you stayed up all night…”

“I don’t think I’d be able to sleep anyway. I’ll be fine.”

Heinwald sighed, picking up his glasses and putting them on.

“You needn’t coddle me Curran,” Heinwald shook his head, “I’m a grown man.”

“I ain’t coddling,” Curran replied, “Once your hands heal up I’ll be puttin’ you to work.”

Heinwald looked down at his hands. The gauze had turned a dingy tan, wet stains appearing on his palm. It looked like being outside wasn’t the best for his already festering wound. Carefully, he unwrapped the gauze around his hands, placing the soiled fabric by his side. His palms were bright red, covered in blisters that oozed with puss. It would be best for him to disinfect his wounds before they got worse. He walked over to the spring, dipping his hands into the cold water. Heinwald swished his hands around, carefully rinsing out the wounds and making ripples in the water. The water turned cloudy around his palms as he washed away the dirt and puss.

As he pulled his hands from the water, the cloud of dirt was flushed away, following the current of the spring to the river running through the woods. His reflection soon became clear within the crystal pool. It was still disorienting seeing his hair streaked with gray. Curran’s reflection came into view as well as he walked up behind him, placing his hand on his shoulder.

“We should get going soon,” Curran said.

“Oh, ok,” Heinwald replied, grabbing the gauze that he had taken off.

He hesitated to put it back on. The fabric had gotten so dirty that it was certainly crawling with bacteria. He turned his gaze to his silken nightgown. It was looking like he wouldn’t be wearing it any time soon and it was certainly cleaner than the gauze.

“Curran,” Heinwald said, “Before we leave, can you cut some strips of fabric from my nightgown? I need something to dress my hands with.”

“You sure?” Curran wondered.

“We don’t have anything else. It’s either that or the clothes I’m wearing right now.”

“Well, if you say so…”

Curran took out the knife that Ralph had given him, cutting into the hem of the silk nightgown to cut out two white strips of fabric. He passed them over to Heinwald, who then wrapped them around his hands. It didn’t offer as much breathability as gauze, but at least the silk fabric would prevent the wounds from getting further infected and allow him to heal.

Heinwald stood up, turning to Curran and nodding that he was ready to depart. Curran refilled the canteen with fresh water from the mouth of the spring and grabbed the rest of their provisions, slinging them all over his back. He reached out to Heinwald, guiding him out of the clearing and back into the woods. They hiked through the trees until they broke out of the dense cover of branches, entering the field on the other side. A small village was nestled at the edge of the field.

“Do you think it will be safe to pass through there?” Heinwald wondered.

“Might be best to try and go around,” Curran speculated, “Rumors actually spread faster in small towns, and people there are even more desperate to make a quick buck. Walking in there would be like a deer charging into a den of hungry bears.”

“Do you think we’ll be able to stop in any village until we reach our destination?”

“No clue. I personally think it would be better to just play it safe and stay on the road. It’ll give the Inquisition a harder time tracking us down.”

“If you say so…”

Heinwald sighed. He didn’t want to be a burden on Curran, nor did he want to come off as high maintenance for wanting to rest up in a village. He was injured, so of course he didn’t want to sleep outside every night, but even in his current state, he hadn’t the luxury to be picky. He shook his head, following Curran through the tall grass of the field and around the small town. Heinwald looked back as they passed the village, partially out of regret, partially out of paranoia. He feared what people were saying about him. He could only imagine the degrading rumors spreading around the Inquisition. Heinwald cringed. He wanted redemption desperately.

The pair continued their trek, heading south towards their sanctuary. The flat, grassy landscape continued on for miles on end. At least the terrain was easy to walk across, but Heinwald’s feet began to grow sore. They had been walking all day without taking a single break. If he was hungry, Curran would just hand him a piece of bread or meat from their supplies and if he was thirsty, he would be given a quick sip from the canteen, but he still had to continue walking even when sating his hunger and thirst. Curran looked up to the sky. The sun had already began to sink below the horizon.

“Heinwald,” he said, “Time to set up camp again.”

Heinwald looked around. Other than the small town and farms nearby, there was no covered place for them to stay.

“We’ll be sleeping out in the field then?” Heinwald sighed, “Will we even be able to make a fire?”

“Hmm…” Curran thought, “Well we could risk sleeping in one of the barns, but we’d have to make sure to leave early in the morning.”

“I’m fine with that. I just hate the cold…”

The two walked to the nearest barn, peeking in the window to make sure the only inhabitants were livestock. Fortunately, it seemed like all of the farmers and farmhands had retired for the night, and only animals remained inside. Curran opened up the door, showing Heinwald inside. Heinwald immediately plopped down on one of the piles of hay. The smell of cows and sheep in the barn wasn’t the most pleasant, but at least it was warm inside of the barn.

“Getting comfortable in the hay, huh?” Curran teased, “You wanna roll around in it?”

Heinwald groaned, “Curran, I’m too tired for sex…”

“I’m just jokin’ with you.”

“No you aren’t…”

Curran shook his head before setting aside a pile of hay for him to rest on. Heinwald looked over to him, slightly disappointed that he laid out his bedding so far away from his. He blushed when Curran caught him staring, smirking at Heinwald tauntingly.

Curran snickered, “Did you change your mind, or…”

Heinwald grabbed a handful of hay, throwing it at Curran, “GO TO SLEEP!”

“Heh, goodnight to you too.”

Curran turned away from Heinwald, nestling in the hay. Heinwald sighed. He felt lonely lying down on his pile of hay by himself. He wouldn’t mind sleeping close to Curran, cuddling in his arms until he fell asleep, but he hadn’t the courage to suggest it. For the remainder of the night, Heinwald couldn’t sleep a wink.

***

Three days had passed since they began their journey south, and the level grasslands of middle Grastaea slowly began to transition into the marshlands near Saint Lotier. Their pace slowed as the damp bogs beneath their feet stuck to the bottoms of their shoes like glue, only sapping their stamina even more. The sun began to sink into the horizon, and fireflies lit up the night sky. Mist began to settle above the stagnant waters of the swamp, chilling the night air even more. The marsh’s terrain was certainly not ideal for camping out, and though Saint Lotier was less than a mile away, their isolationist policies made it an unwelcoming environment for travellers. Curran had to keep his eyes peeled to find a safe place for them to camp out, lest they get sick from sleeping in the bogs or find themselves attacked by fiends.

Suddenly, he spotted a cave in the distance. It was about a quarter of a mile away, but Curran feared that Heinwald wouldn’t even be able to make it that far. Trudging through the bog had sapped him of his energy, and he looked as if he was about to pass out from exhaustion. Curran gripped onto their bag of provisions before kneeling down into the bog water.

“Heinwald, get on my back,” he ordered.

“I told you not to coddle me…” Heinwald panted, “I can make it… just… how much further do we have to walk?”

“_I_ need to walk about a quarter mile to get us to where we’ll be camping out. _You_ however are gonna get on my back and let me carry you there. You look exhausted. I don’t want you passing out before we get there and ending up soaking wet in swamp water.”

Heinwald sighed. Curran was surprisingly perceptive. He was trying to put on a strong act, but he was completely exhausted from their travels. Heinwald conceded, climbing onto Curran’s back and wrapping his arms over his shoulders. Curran lifted him up, carrying him over to the cave. It was dark and damp inside, but at least the ground was solid. He set Heinwald down gently before handing him a piece of dried meat to eat.

“Gonna have to start hunting tomorrow,” Curran sighed, “Only have enough food left for tonight.”

Heinwald nearly dropped his food, “Already? Hasn’t it only been three days?”

“I’m actually amazed we could make the food last this long…”

Heinwald buried his face in his knees. He knew that Curran said that he had hunted before, but they only had a dagger for a weapon and Heinwald couldn’t assist him with his magic. His hands had greatly healed since he first got the injury, but his skin was still sensitive and raw, rendering him incapable of holding a weapon, let alone casting magic.

“How much longer do we have until we get to the port town?” Heinwald wondered.

“We’re about halfway there,” Curran replied, “Once we’re out of Saint Lotier territory, we’ll be back in the plains, then it’ll be smooth sailing until we make it to the port town.”

“Will we be able to make it? We’re out of food. It’s freezing. We can’t even pass through a town without worrying about being arrested…”

Heinwald suddenly felt choked up. He knew Curran told him that he would get used to life on the road, but the past three days had been pure misery for him. He was exhausted physically and emotionally. Blisters covered his feet from walking miles after miles throughout the day. His whole body ached and he was caked in sweat and grime.

“I can’t keep living like this Curran,” he said.

Heinwald felt Curran’s warm arms wrap around him, his hands running through his now tangled and greasy hair.

“I’m sorry, but please bear with it for a few more days. Please don’t give up, Heinwald. I know it’s tough now, but everything is going to get better.”

Tears began to flow from Heinwald’s eyes, “I hate this… I hate being on the run… I just want to go home. I want to read a nice book in my bed with you by my side and not have to worry about being considered a heretic or a criminal… It’s not fair Curran… It’s not fair at all.”

“I know it isn’t fair. I wish the Church could be more accepting too, not for my sake, but for yours. I don’t want to see you become jaded and scarred like me. I don’t want to see you lose that hope and faith that you’ve held so tightly to. I swear that I’ll get your old life back, so please, just hang in there a bit longer…”

Heinwald felt Curran’s thumb wipe the tears from his cheek. He couldn’t see a thing in the darkness of the cave, but it made every single touch feel stronger, more comforting. Heinwald felt Curran’s lips press against his, his chapped skin warming his ice cold body. He hugged Curran tighter, soaking up his warmth and savoring his kindness.

“You’re so warm Curran,” Heinwald said, “Don’t let go of me.”

“I won’t,” Curran promised, “I’ll keep you warm; I’ll keep you safe.”

Heinwald blushed. He loved being embraced by Curran. He wanted to stay like this forever. A chill went up his spine as a drop of water dripped from the cave’s ceiling and onto his back. Even in the multiple layers he had on, Heinwald still shivered. He feared freezing to death inside of the cave, but he knew outside would be no better. He swallowed hard, gathering his courage to ask something of Curran; at the very least, he had an excuse for asking it now.

“We can’t light a fire in here… we don’t have any food to protect anymore… Curran, can we sleep together tonight?” Heinwald asked, “And keep each other warm?”

Curran cooed, “I would love that.”

The two lay down on the hard ground of the cave, huddling close to stay warm in the frigid, damp air. Heinwald nuzzled into Curran’s chest, listening to the steady beating of his heart. He mewled as Curran caressed his back, easing the tension in his aching muscles as he held him close. His warm body and gentle touch helped Heinwald forget his troubles if only for a moment. He closed his eyes, letting himself be swept away by the comfort of Curran’s embrace. Surrounded by his warmth, by his affection; it was a silver lining on the storm cloud plighting his life right now. His breathing eased and his muscles relaxed. He was fast asleep in Curran’s arms.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry the chapter took so long! I've been super busy with work!

Water dripped from the cave’s ceiling onto Heinwald’s face, making him jolt awake. It was completely dark out, save for the stars that speckled the night sky outside of the cave. He attempted to get up, only to be held back by Curran’s tight grip around him. Curran was still fast asleep, huddling close to him. His breathing was calm and his warm body helped Heinwald beat the chill hanging in the night air. Curran looked so gentle, so peaceful, the polar opposite of what he was like when awake. He was always so rough around the edges and burly, seeing him so soft and vulnerable was a pleasant change of pace.

Heinwald leaned back into Curran’s embrace, taking a deep breath as he buried his face in his chest. His musk had grown stronger from their long hours of travelling, but Heinwald wasn’t repulsed in the slightest. As a matter of fact, he found it alluring, taking another deep breath through his nose to bask in Curran’s scent. His fingers wandered from Curran’s back to his chest, ghosting his touch along the light blonde hairs that sprouted from his pectorals. He closed his eyes once more, falling back asleep surrounded by Curran’s warmth.

The rest of the night seemed to pass by in minutes. He cold get used to sleeping with Curran. Even on the cold ground of the cave, being embraced by his warm, muscular body was enough to lull him into a sound slumber. As sunlight peaked through the mouth of the cave, Heinwald could feel Curran’s grasp around him loosen, until he had completely awoken and parted from him. He secretly wished that Curran had slept just a bit longer, just so he could enjoy his warm cuddles a little more.

“Rise ‘n shine, Heinwald,” Curran said, shaking Heinwald’s shoulder.

“I’m awake,” Heinwald sighed.

“You weren’t too cold last night, right?”

“No, I was fine. Just being in your arms was enough to keep me warm.”

Curran blushed, rubbing the back of his neck. He loved when Heinwald spoke his feelings so candidly.

“Well, we should probably make for the port town,” Curran said, “Let’s get out of this marsh.”

Curran extended his hand to Heinwald, helping him up from the damp cave floor. Heinwald tore off another piece of fabric from his old nightgown to redress his wounds, as the old fabric had grown soggy from the humid environment of the bog. They gathered what little belongings they had left and left the cave, heading out into the sludgy terrain of the marshes of Saint Lotier. They trudged through the mud, each step feeling like 100 in the thick, unstable ground of the bog. Heinwald’s breath became heavy from exhaustion. They had only been walking for thirty minutes, but between the terrain and the humidity, Heinwald’s energy was almost completely spent. How much longer would they have to wander through the marsh? When would they reach solid ground again?

“Need me to carry you again?” Curran asked, noticing his partner’s exhaustion.

“I’ll be fine…” Heinwald panted, “Just how much longer until we’re out of Saint Lotier territory?”

“Should be about a mile.”

“A mile?”

Heinwald wanted to sit down and take a breather, but in this bog he’d be lucky to find solid, dry ground to stand on, much less to sit on. It would be so much more convenient if they could just hire a ferry skipper in the city and relax on a nice boat ride through the marshes instead of braving the harsh terrain, but Heinwald knew that was nothing more than wishful thinking.

“So do you want me to carry you or no?” Curran asked.

“I’ll walk…” Heinwald sighed, “But once we’re out of the marsh, can we take a break?”

“If it’ll keep you from keeling over, then sure.”

Heinwald steeled himself, powering through the rest of their trek through the bog. He was grateful that they didn’t run into any fiends, or worse yet, anyone who would turn them into the Inquisition, but their voyage was still an arduous one. As soon as the land grew solid and the humidity turned to a dry heat, Heinwald let go of Curran’s hand, lying down in the grass of the plains.

“Finally…” he gasped, “We’re out of that marsh…”

“You’re such a drama queen…” Curran chuckled, “You hungry? I might try to hunt some rabbits for lunch.”

Heinwald’s stomach turned. He had eaten rabbit meat before, but he had always seen it after it was a filet of meat. No doubt Curran would skin and roast the rabbit whole, and Heinwald wasn’t sure if he could morally eat something that still looked like an adorable creature.

“Could you look for some berries and wild grasses as well?” Heinwald asked, trying to hide his aversion, “I’m not hungry enough for meat.”

“You’re so picky…” Curran hissed, “Meat will be better for you in the long run. It’ll give you way more energy than berries.”

“So we’re really going to be eating a cute little bunny, huh?”

“Would you rather I kill a squirrel for our lunch? Unfortunately, I can’t exactly hunt wild birds or big game with a dagger, so you’ll have to live with some kind of rodent meat.”

“Fine… Good luck on your rabbit hunt…”

Curran turned on his heel, disappearing into the tall grass to hunt for food. Heinwald exhaled, leaning back into the soft grass and looking up at the sky above. Puffy white clouds skated across the sky, propelled by the gentle winds that drifted across the plains. It was still quite warm out, but at least the humidity of the bog was gone, leaving a dry heat in the air. Heinwald took a deep breath in through his nose. Though it was faint, he could smell a hint of salt water lingering in the air. Perhaps they were getting close to their destination. He closed his eyes, allowing himself some quality relaxation. Due to the strenuous trip, he had been denied time to rest other than sleeping at night, and even then he often found it hard to sleep. Lying down in the tall grass, watching the clouds and feeling the soft winds almost made him feel like he was back at home, relaxing in the fields outside of his manor.

Curran arrived back almost too soon, holding a dead rabbit by its ears over his shoulder. Heinwald wished he could have stayed a bit longer, enjoying his down time and forgetting the stress of their journey, but reality was cruel. He knew that they could not afford to rest for too long lest the Inquisition or bounty hunters found them.

“We should probably get to a clearing before we cook this up,” Curran said, holding out the dead rabbit, “Don’t want to start a wildfire in this tall grass.”

“Please refrain from showing our ‘meal’ to me until after it’s cooked,” Heinwald grimaced, “Looking at it like this is making me uncomfortable.”

“Fine, fine. Guessing you don’t want me to cook it whole then either…”

“That would be preferable, yes.”

“You’re so high maintenance… I ain’t a chef. Fileting is a pain in the ass… unless you want to cut it up.”

Heinwald gagged. Skinning and fileting the rabbit would be even worse for him than eating its meat off of the bone.

“No thank you,” he sighed, “We don’t have to cut it up… But you are going to skin and gut it right?”

“Yeah. I doubt rabbit fur and guts would taste any good,” Curran chuckled, “I can manage at least that.”

Curran hid the rabbit away in the parcel that used to hold their food that Ralph had given them before offering Heinwald a hand to help him up. Heinwald took Curran’s hand, pulling himself up off of the ground and following behind him. As the high grass of the field grew shorter and sparser, Curran began looking for rocks and twigs to set up a fire and cook their meal. Heinwald helped in whatever way he could, setting the pebbles in a circle to prevent the fire Curran was about to make from spreading and positioning the twigs into a cone. Curran pulled out his dagger before looking to Heinwald.

“You might want to look away,” he suggested, “I’m gonna skin it pretty soon.”

“Oh, of course,” Heinwald replied.

“I’ll let you know when lunch is ready. Just make yourself comfortable and relax a bit.”

Heinwald turned away, sitting down on the firmer ground and looking back to the field. Rocks and tree roots jabbed into his legs and rear uncomfortably and bugs scurried around in the dirt. He would have much rather stayed out in the field, but it wouldn’t be wise of him to stray too far from Curran. Despite his time in the Inquisition, Heinwald was clueless when it came to survival in the wilderness. Curran was the only lifeline he had, his only chance to live and return to his old life. As his thoughts wandered, he began to smell the scent of smoke. He turned his head to see Curran lighting the fire and placing a skinless rabbit, impaled upon a stick, on top of the fire. Heinwald covered his mouth, feeling sick to his stomach at the sight of the rabbit’s carcass.

“I thought I told you to look away…” Curran sighed.

“I think I’ve lost my appetite…” Heinwald wretched.

“You’re gonna need to eat something… I don’t want you dyin’ of starvation…”

“Will all of the wild game you catch be cooked in such a grotesque manner?”

“Only if it’s a rodent or a bird. I’ll filet a deer or a bear if we catch one. There’s no way I could cook that whole.”

Heinwald watched the flames lick at the rabbit’s flesh, turning the bright pink meat into a light tan color. The smell of blood eventually gave way to the more palatable scent of cooked meat, and though the carcass still looked like a rabbit, at least its muscular structure wasn’t as apparent now that it was cooked. Curran pulled the rabbit off of the fire, pulling one of the legs off and handing it to Heinwald.

“Eat up,” Curran said.

Heinwald reluctantly took the rabbit’s leg, sinking his teeth into the meat. To his surprise, it actually didn’t taste that bad. Sure they didn’t have any spices to season it, but it was cooked perfectly. It was cooked just enough to get rid of the gaminess but not too much to turn the tender meat dry.

“Wow,” Heinwald swallowed, “It’s not bad…”

“Heh, glad it can satisfy your noble palate,” Curran snickered, taking a swig of water from their canteen, “Care for a drink too?”

“Sure.”

Heinwald accepted the canteen from Curran, swallowing some water from within. He could tell there wasn’t much water left and figured he should leave some for when they got back to travelling. Heinwald didn’t know when they’d encounter a source of fresh water again and thirst was a traveller’s worst nightmare. He continued to eat the leg of rabbit until he reached the bone, nibbling every last fiber of protein from it like a starved wolf. Curran finished off his leg as well, storing the rest of the rabbit meat in their parcel.

“Hope you don’t mind rabbit again for dinner tonight,” Curran said.

“I can’t really afford to be picky, now can I…” Heinwald shrugged.

“Good, you’re learning.”

Curran stood up, throwing some dirt over the fire to put it out.

“Should only be two more days of travel from here,” he informed, “We’re almost there, Heinwald, just hold out for a bit longer.”

***

Heinwald’s stomach grumbled as he waited by the campfire for Curran to return. Even after two days, he still wasn’t fond of the hunting and gathering lifestyle. At least they’d be arriving at their destination by tomorrow, but even when they got there, Heinwald had no idea what they’d be doing for food or shelter. He gazed through the ruffling bushes and tall trees, trying to see if Curran was nearby with their dinner for the evening. Curran wasn’t the kind of man to get lost so easily, but Heinwald still worried. Perhaps he should check to see if he was all right.

He stood up from the campfire, heading out into the brush. Curran’s footsteps were seared into the earth beneath him, making it easy for Heinwald to follow his path. Heinwald shivered as he heard wolves howl in the distance, fearing that they were on the hunt and he was easy prey. He looked down at his hands, still wrapped in the silk of what was once his nightgown. They had healed considerably since he was initially injured, but he still had yet to recover completely. He looked around, finding a large branch and picking it up. It wasn’t the ideal weapon, but it could work as a makeshift staff for the time being, just in case he needed to defend himself.

As he proceeded further into the woodlands, he heard the yelping of wolves and what sounded like Curran grunting in pain. He was in danger. Heinwald followed his ears, rushing to the source of the sound. His jaw dropped when he saw Curran, covered in scratches and bruises, surrounded by a pack of wolves. The carcass of a deer and several bloodied wolf bodies lay at his feet. He brandished his hunting dagger, fending off any other wolves that were attempting to cheat him of his prize, but given his condition, Curran couldn’t hold out that much longer, especially as the pack’s alpha prepared to charge. Heinwald gripped onto the branch, shivering in fear. He couldn’t just stand around and let Curran die, but he didn’t know if he was in proper shape to cast magic again. Heinwald was completely torn.

_“Awaken,”_ a voice rang out in Heinwald’s head.

“Who goes there?” Heinwald asked.

_“Awaken,” _the voice repeated, _“Awaken thy true potential as a mage. Invoke the words of the Abyss. Bring out the magic which hast laid dormant in thy blood.”_

“Who are you?”

_“We are the root. We are many and nothing. We are the source behind thy power, the ancestor who hast given you our gifts. Question not our benevolence towards thee, and awaken.”_

Heinwald’s vision went black as power surged through his body. It felt like someone else had taken control of his body, his hand gripping the branch raising and his lips parting to chant.

“Feth qichi…” he chanted, “Feth qichi…”

Curran turned to see Heinwald emerging from the brush, his eyes glazed over as if entranced and dark mana emanating from the branch in his hand. Dark tendrils rose from the ground beneath the wolves, crawling up their limbs and wrenching around their bodies in a vice grip. The wolves yelped in pain as the tendrils tore away at their flesh, strangling their bodies and eroding their skin. Their eyes popped out of their skulls and their tongues grew bloody and limp as the tendrils crushed their internal organs. Curran had never seen such a cruel grotesque sight.

“Heinwald…” he choked, “Stop…. What’s come over you?”

A twisted grin spread across Heinwald’s face as he gazed at his suffering prey, enjoying every second of their agonizing deaths.

“Nyarlathotep,” he snarled, “FETH QICHI!”

The tendrils around the wolves’ bodies convulsed, reducing the pack to nothing more than mounds of flesh and red stains on the forest floor. Heinwald laughed hysterically as blood splattered onto his body, savoring the results of the sadistic ritual. Curran had no idea what had happened to Heinwald, but he wasn’t just going to sit around and let him continue this. As his partner, no, as his lover, he had to stop this. He set down his dagger, running over to Heinwald and smacking the branch from his hand. He wrapped his arms tightly around him, Heinwald’s maniacal laughter not ceasing.

“SNAP OUT OF THIS!” he cried out, “HEINWALD PLEASE! STOP THIS!”

The dark mana swirling around Heinwald slowly began to disperse, and Heinwald’s tense body began to relax in Curran’s arms. His eyes regained their light, and he took in a deep breath, as if waking up from a deep slumber.

“Curran?” he asked.

Heinwald gasped as soon as he came to his senses, trembling at the gory sight before him.

“What…” he gagged, “What happened here?”

“You don’t remember?” Curran gaped.

“I just remember a strange voice… and then…”

Heinwald threw his hands over his mouth, realizing the shocking truth of what happened.

“Oh Ilia…” he cried, “Did… did I do this?”

“You were chanting like some sort of possessed madman,” Curran informed, “I’m just glad you’re back to normal.”

“I… I…”

Heinwald broke down sobbing into Curran’s arms. He still was in a daze about what happened, but somehow, some entity had taken control of him, making him slaughter the wolf pack in such a horrific manner. Suddenly, the words of both the entity and Doppelgänger rushed into his mind.

_“Do you really not know the true nature of your magic?”_ Doppelgänger hissed, _“Your Abyssal Connection?”_

_ “Bring out the magic which hast laid dormant in thy blood,” _the unknown entity said, “_We are the source behind thy power, the ancestor who hast given you our gifts.”_

“I really am a heretic…” Heinwald bawled, “This power… this destruction… I’ve always had it inside of me… I…”

Curran slapped Heinwald across the face, bringing him back to reality.

“Look, I’m still confused and shocked about what happened too,” Curran snapped, “But if one thing’s clear to me, you weren’t yourself when you killed those wolves. Is the Cardinal a heretic for being possessed by Doppelgänger?”

“No…” Heinwald sniffed, “But I…”

“But nothin’! You came back to your senses. It’s not your fault that something took control of you.”

“What if it comes back? What if I end up hurting you…”

Curran wiped away Heinwald’s tears, kissing him lightly on the tip of his nose.

“I ain’t gonna let myself die,” Curran assured, “And if you ever become entranced like that again, I’ll make sure to pull you back to reality.”

“Ok…” Heinwald sniffed.

“Now, how about we make our way back to camp? I think I salvaged most of this deer. We can have some dinner and then get some rest. It’s only a few more miles until we reach the port town, but I think we should still wait until morning before we hit the road again.”

“I… I fear I’ve lost my appetite…”

Heinwald tried to look away from the gory sight, but his eyes kept darting back to it, the horrifying carnage that he caused. This slaughter did not look like a fight between beasts or a hunt by men; it was a ritual sacrifice, a bloodbath that looked too inhumane for any modern religion to condone. Just what manner of entity had possessed him? He turned away as Curran cut some filets of meat out of the deer’s legs, just enough for one last meal before he and Heinwald made it to their long awaited sanctuary. Curran grabbed Heinwald’s hand, squeezing it kindly.

“It’s ok Heinwald,” he cooed, “Everything will be alright…”

“I hope so…” Heinwald sighed.

Curran guided him back to their camp. What was once a raging campfire had dimmed down to nothing but smoldering embers. Curran threw some kindling on top of the fire, reviving the flame so he could cook the meat. Heinwald buried his face in his knees, the weight of his actions still hanging heavy on him. Curran shook his head, sitting down next to Heinwald and throwing an arm over his shoulder as the meat cooked.

“Look,” Curran assured, “What happened tonight wasn’t your fault. I know it’s askin’ a lot, but it might be best for your sanity if you just try to forget about it.”

“I wish I could,” Heinwald confessed, “But I doubt I ever will…”

Curran kissed Heinwald on the cheek, trying to console him, to make him forget.

“I love you, Heinwald,” he said, “You’re a brave, strong man. I know life has been tough right now, and I know what happened tonight ain’t exactly makin’ things any better, but I promise I’ll stay by your side, no matter what. I’ll try my damndest to make everything right. I swear it.”

“Do you really mean that Curran?” Heinwald whimpered.

“Of course I do. I ain’t the kinda guy to give hollow service and lip words.”

Heinwald chuckled, a smile stretching across his formerly solemn face.

“Don’t you mean ‘hollow words’ and ‘lip service’?” Heinwald laughed.

“Damn… made a right fool of myself…” Curran grumbled, “Oh well, at least it got you smilin’ again.”

Heinwald kissed Curran chastely on the lips. He was still scarred from what happened earlier, but Curran had his own kind of magic when it came to cheering him up.

“I love you too Curran,” Heinwald smiled, “Once everything is fixed, once we save the Cardinal, I will make it a point to see the Church acknowledges and accepts our relationship, and I will get you reinstated as an Inquisitor.”

“You don’t gotta do that,” Curran blushed, rubbing the back of his neck, “I’m fine stayin’ a bounty hunter as long as I can be with you.”

“But I want to Curran. I want to make everything right.”

“Heinwald…”

Heinwald’s stomach growled, cutting the tender moment short. Curran burst out laughing as blush painted Heinwald’s cheeks.

“Guess you got your appetite back,” Curran teased.

“Shut up Curran…” Heinwald grumbled, “Way to kill the mood…”

“I wasn’t the one whose stomach growled.”

“Curran!”

“You know I’m just teasing you, right Heinwald?”

Heinwald pouted as Curran pulled the still hot venison meat off of the campfire, cutting it up with his dagger and handing some off to Heinwald.

“Well then, maybe this’ll satisfy your hunger,” he smirked.

Heinwald blew on the hot meat, biting into it eagerly. Its savory juices spread across his palate as he chewed with relish.

“I always have loved venison,” Heinwald confessed, “I never knew it tasted so good when it’s this fresh.”

“Didn’t do nothin’ special to it,” Curran said through a mouthful of meat, “Well, I have been told that the two best spices are hunger and love.”

“I can definitely taste the love in it.”

They two laughed as their finished off their meal, huddling together by the warmth of the campfire. Heinwald let his head fall into the crook of Curran’s neck, resting against his firm shoulder. Curran smiled, running his fingers through Heinwald’s long hair.

“Curran,” Heinwald said.

“Hm?” Curran replied.

“I notice you hardly call me ‘kitten’ anymore, if at all.”

“You missin’ that pet name?”

“No. I actually love that you call me by my actual name now. I was just wondering what sparked the change.”

“Well, it is a cute name, and it fits you well. Besides, I thought you didn’t like bein’ called ‘kitten,’ so it’s only natural that if your lover doesn’t like somethin’ you stop doin’ it.”

“I see. Though I wouldn’t mind a different pet name. Perhaps I could even come up with one for you.”

“Oh, like what?”

“Hmm… handsome, my dearest, my love…”

Curran blushed as Heinwald rattled off cute nicknames. Every other relationship he had been in seemed purely physical. It was nice having such a cute boyfriend who viewed him so fondly, who actually treated him like a lover and a friend instead of just a partner in sex.

“Anything you want, cutie,” Curran chuckled, kissing Heinwald on his cheek.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Return of the smut. Its sexy bath time

Curran and Heinwald hiked up the incline of the hill. This was their final obstacle, the last terrain they would have to conquer before they reached their sanctuary. Heinwald was grateful that they’d finally have a place they could stay without being hunted by the Church, but he still worried about what they would do for food and shelter. Soon enough they reached the peak of the hill. Curran peeked out over the bluff. The salt sea air was brisk, a gentle wind keeping the area comfortably cool. Gulls squawked, letting the wind’s currents carry them as they soared through the cloudless sky.

“Heinwald,” he said, “We’re finally here.”

Heinwald took a good look at the city nestled beneath the hill. Its architecture was warm and inviting with a multitude of boats stationed in the port. He gasped in surprise. This place was familiar.

“Curran,” he commented, “I know this city… This… This is Napoli, isn’t it?”

“Uh, I think so… Shit, do we need to find another place to hide out?” Curran worried.

“No, quite the opposite. I know someone who lives here that can hide us. Follow me Curran.”

Heinwald grabbed Curran’s hand and rushed down the bluff into the bustling city. It was just as lively as he remembered. Merchants peddled their wares at stalls and storefronts on the clean streets. Housewives and maids opened the windows above, shaking out sheets and hanging up their laundry to dry. Kids played happily by the fountain in the town square, throwing coins over their shoulders to make wishes. The place appeared quite affluent, but the luxury was not to the point of excess. Even with the various mansions across the city, there were still ample apartments and small cottages for those who weren’t as well off. Yet they didn’t appear dingy or dirty. As a matter of fact, they looked extremely well maintained. Curran and Heinwald proceeded through the town, ultimately stopping in front of what appeared to be the largest estate in the city. Heinwald raised his fist, knocking on the door. A butler came to answer the door, slightly taken aback by Heinwald’s disheveled appearance.

“Kind sir, are you alright?” he asked.

“I could be better,” Heinwald replied, “I apologize for arriving without letting the Lady of the house know, but could you inform her that her daughter-in-law’s brother, Heinwald, has arrived.”

“Lord Heinwald?” the butler gaped, “It has been so long. I will inform Lady Dominica of your arrival. Please come inside and make yourself comfortable.”

Curran and Heinwald stepped into the foyer of the manor. Marble statues bordered each side of the carpeted staircase, gold handrails trailing up to the second floor. They sat down on the velvet-cushioned seats of the living room, soon hearing the sound of high heels clacking against tile. A woman in a green brocade dress descended the stairs to the foyer. Her curly black hair was pinned up elegantly, and even with the streaks of grey amidst her strands and the small wrinkles across her olive skinned face, she was still beautiful in spite of her age. Her amber eyes lit up when she saw Heinwald, making her rush down the staircase and wrap her arms around him in a tight hug.

“Heinwald! Mio bambino!” she beamed, kissing his cheeks, “What happened to you my dear? You look like a wreck, you poor thing.”

“Zia,” Heinwald replied, “It’s quite the long story. Perhaps I should introduce you to my partner first. Curran, this is Lady Dominica. She’s my brother-in-law’s mother.”

Before Curran could offer his hand to shake, Dominica had already closed the gaps between their faces, kissing him on both of his cheeks like she did with Heinwald.

“Ciao,” she smiled, “You may call me zia if you like though.”

“Nice to meet ya…” Curran replied, still a bit shocked by being kissed by a woman he just met.

“Zia,” Heinwald explained, grabbing onto Curran’s hand and blushing, “Curran is my lover. We were working on a case for the Inquisition, but just as we were about to solve it, I was framed for attempted murder of a clergyman and labeled as a wanted heretic. Curran and I have been on the run for a week now, braving the elements and trying to find somewhere that could be a temporary sanctuary for us.”

“Poor bambino…” Dominica sighed, “Would you like to stay with me? You know my door is always open to you. My Antonio always thought of you as his little brother, so even if we aren’t blood related, you will always be a son to me, and as a mother I can never turn away her son in need.”

“Thank you zia,” Heinwald replied, “Curran and I are in your debt.”

“I will have my servants prepare the guest room for you immediately. Just let me know if there’s anything I can do for you.”

“I appreciate it, zia.”

Dominica gave Heinwald one last hug before heading over to the nearest butler. Curran relaxed back into the soft material of couch, heaving a large sigh.

“Looks like we lucked out,” Curran said, “Here I thought we’d be inn-hoping and hitting the breadline for food, but here we are in a manor being attended to by the Lady of the house herself.”

“It almost feels like I’m back at home,” Heinwald smiled.

“Lady Dominica is technically your mother-in-law right? She’s awfully friendly with you…”

“Are you worried about the kissing? It’s just a common greeting here in Napoli. Friends and loved ones often greet each other with a kiss on the cheek.”

“Well it’s not just that… I didn’t even know you had a sister.”

Heinwald’s expression grew somber. He looked down at his hands and twiddled his thumbs.

“Well, _had_ is the key word,” Heinwald informed, “My sister passed away.”

“Oh, Hein, I’m so sorry to hear about that,” Curran gulped, immediately regretting asking.

“It was a while ago, but she took her own life… It happened right after her fiancé, Lady Dominica’s son Antonio, was executed by the Inquisition… He was accused and found guilty of murder.”

“Sheesh…”

“It was self defense. My father wasn’t exactly the most loving parent. He often believed that the only way to get his children to respect him was to get them to fear him through violence… he often took out his anger on my sister and I, beating us until we couldn’t stand or talk back. Once Antonio found out about my father’s abusive tendencies, he wanted to cut all ties with him and take my sister and I here to Napoli where we could be safe. Father however, wasn’t so happy with this idea. They got into a terrible fight, and father fell down the stairs and snapped his neck in the middle of it…”

“He was just tryin’ to protect you and your sister and the Inquisition still deemed him a murderer… Why am I not surprised…”

“I tried to convince the Cardinal of his innocence, but he threatened to convict me for aiding a murderer if I didn’t stay complacent with the Inquisition’s decision. I still remember the feeling of my sister’s and Lady Dominica’s tears on my shoulder on the day of his execution. It was too painful to watch.”

“Geez, Heinwald I’m so sorry…”

“That’s why Lady Dominica treats me like family. She was widowed before I met her and after losing her only son, I’m the only family she has left.”

Their conversation was cut short when a butler arrived, bowing politely.

“We have finished setting up the guestroom for you and your partner Lord Heinwald,” he said, “We have also prepared two dressing robes so we may wash your clothes. Would you care for me to draw you a bath?”

A bath sounded wonderful. The closest thing Heinwald had to bathing while traveling was wading through streams and splashing some water on his face. He would love nothing more than to relax in a nice hot bath and clean off the grime caked onto his skin and grease coating his hair.

“That would be greatly appreciated,” Heinwald replied.

“Follow me,” the butler offered, “I shall show you to the guest room and get the bath ready.”

Heinwald already knew where it was thanks to visiting here in his youth, but following the butler was more a polite formality. As they walked down the hallway, Curran gazed at the tapestries and paintings on the wall. In one of them was a painting of a handsome man with the same amber eyes and olive skin as Lady Dominica. His dark hair was slicked back and he wore an intricately embroidered white suit. He was holding hands with a beautiful woman in a white wedding dress. Her cocoa brown hair was tied up into an elegant bun and her violet eyes glimmered with happiness.

“I see you are admiring the portrait of the late Lord Antonio and his fiancée Lady Gretchen,” the butler said.

Heinwald circled back to Curran, looking nostalgically at the painting.

“My sister looked so happy,” Heinwald reminisced, “This was to be their wedding portrait… I’m certain they would have had a long happy life together…”

“I’m surprise you didn’t have one in your home,” Curran commented.

“The painter only made the one copy. I felt it would be better for Lady Dominica to have it as a final memento of her son. Still, even if it is just a painting, it is nice to see my sister and brother-in-law happy together.”

Curran couldn’t help but notice Heinwald’s expression. He looked at peace, but also melancholic. Curran could see the mourning on his face, but he also noticed an undertone of desire, that he too wanted to obtain the happiness that his sister found with her fiancé and see it through to fruition since the opportunity was robbed from Antonio and Gretchen. He placed his hand on his shoulder comfortingly and pulled him in close.

“We probably shouldn’t keep the butler waiting,” he said.

Heinwald looked away from the painting to the butler who was waiting for them at the end of the hall.

“Yeah, you’re right,” he sighed.

They left the portrait behind, heading to the guest room. The butler twisted the gilded doorknob, opening the mahogany door to reveal a spacious, lavishly decorated room. The bed was large enough for two, and silk curtains hung from the windowsills. Outside the windows, flowers bloomed, presenting a beautiful view of the garden out back. There were ample dressers, wardrobes, and closets and the bathroom was adjoined to the room. The butler took two silk dressing robes off out of the wardrobe, handing them to Curran and Heinwald.

“Please change into these while I prepare the bath,” he instructed, “I will take your clothes to the laundry room to wash them as soon as you’ve changed.”

The butler headed into the bathroom, closing the door behind him to allow the pair their privacy. Heinwald blushed as Curran yanked his shirt over his shoulders, revealing the taut muscles of his abs and chest. Curran looked at Heinwald through half lidded eyes, noticing his flushed cheeks.

“Well, are you gonna strip too, or are you just gonna keep checking me out like that?” he teased.

“I… I’ll get changed,” Heinwald stammered.

It just occurred to him that he had never seen Curran completely naked. Even when they had sex, Curran had just taken off both of their pants. Seeing Curran nude and laying himself bare felt even more intimate, and he couldn’t get enough of Curran’s body. He found his gaze wandering as the two of them changed, staring at the firm muscles of Curran’s torso, the blonde pubic hairs that trailed up from his groin to right below his belly button, the bulging biceps of his arms, his perfectly rounded glutes. It almost made him too embarrassed to take off his underwear, as he feared Curran would make fun of him just for getting aroused at seeing him shirtless.

Yet Heinwald wasn’t the only one admiring their partner’s appearance. Curran himself constantly found himself checking out Heinwald’s body as he stripped. His fair skin was almost transparent and his hair cascaded down his back in gentle waves like water. He had very little body hair, save for the black pubic hair that speckled his groin, and his ribs slightly protruded from his slender chest. Curran too felt himself getting hard at the sight.

As soon as they were both nude, Heinwald reached for the robes, only to feel Curran’s arms wrap around his waist. His prosthetic hand reached up to Heinwald’s chin, tilting it towards his face to steal a kiss. Heinwald felt his heart skip a beat as Curran teasingly humped his ass, mewling into Curran’s kiss. Curran teethed at Heinwald’s lower lip, playfully licking and nibbling it before pulling away.

“You’re so fucking sexy,” he growled, “Might have to ask the servants to grab us some lube.”

Heinwald blushed, “Curran, if you do that… then they’ll know that we’re…”

“Don’t you want to have sex again? It’s been a while.”

Heinwald swallowed hard, yelping as Curran nibbled on his ear.

“Don’t you want me to split you open again with my massive cock?” Curran whispered seductively, “To pound your cute little ass until you melt away? To pamper and please you until you become a writhing, moaning mess under me?”

Curran’s words went straight to his cock, making him harden and twitch in anticipation. He certainly did want to have sex with him again, but while he found Curran’s musk arousing, he felt that the sweat and grime caking his own body had the opposite effect.

“I…” Heinwald whimpered, “I want to take a bath first, but you can join me if you want.”

“Oh? Well how could I turn that down?” Curran grunted.

Heinwald handed Curran his robe before slipping his own on and heading over to the bathroom door. He knocked on the solid wood, letting the butler know that they had changed out of their clothes and into the robes. The butler opened the door and bowed before collecting their dirty clothes from the floor.

“Enjoy your bath,” he said cordially, “Is there anything else I can get for you?”

“Umm…” Heinwald blushed, “Could you possibly bring us… some lubricant…?”

Curran snickered. He thought it was so cute how awkwardly Heinwald asked for lube.

“Of course,” the butler replied, not even flinching at the request, “I shall leave it on the nightstand for you.”

The butler left the guest room, closing the door behind him. Curran quickly jumped at the opportunity, sliding the robe off of Heinwald’s chest and pulling him close.

“Come on babe,” he urged, “Let’s go take a bath.”

Heinwald walked into the bathroom, shrugging off his robe and hanging it up. The bathtub was a large, porcelain tub, but it would still be quite the squeeze for two people, not that he minded that. It was filled halfway with bubbles and warm water, with bottles of shampoo and conditioner sitting at its feet. Curran twisted off his prosthetic arm and pulled off his eye-patch, setting them aside with his robe and wading into the warm, soapy water of the tub. He let his arms rest comfortably around the rim, sighing in comfort as steam rose from his body. Heinwald’s glasses began to fog up, from both the warmth emanating from the tub and the sight of Curran nude. Curran smirked at him seductively, beckoning him over with his good hand.

“Aren’t you going to join me?” he purred.

“Yes, of course,” Heinwald yelped, setting his glasses down on the sink counter.

He felt his way over to the tub, blind as a bat without his glasses. Not that they would be of any help anyway; they had completely fogged over. He would need to give them a good cleaning afterwards. Heinwald grabbed onto Curran’s hand, carefully getting into the bathtub. Water splashed over the edges as he sat down, his back pressed against Curran’s chest and his hips nestled between Curran’s legs. He could feel Curran’s erection, slightly softening from the hot water, flush against the curve of his ass. Curran wrapped his arms around him, holding him closer in the already cramped tub.

“This is nice,” Heinwald breathed.

“Yeah, sure as hell beats sleeping in the dirt,” Curran chuckled, “You want me to wash you?”

“It won’t be difficult for you with one hand, right?”

“I could use something else to clean you off if you want.”

Heinwald whimpered as he felt Curran’s cock grind against him, his hand teasing at his nipples.

“Curran…” he mewled, “Just use your hand, please…”

“Ok, I’ll get ya nice and clean,” he growled.

Curran reached for the bottle of shampoo, squeezing a generous sized dollop on top of Heinwald’s scalp. Heinwald soon felt the nub of Curran’s amputated arm pull him in closer as his free hand tangled into his hair. He scrubbed at his scalp, making the shampoo foam up in his hair. The grease and sweat accumulating in his locks was being washed away thanks to Curran’s massaging hand, rose scented bubbles trickling down his scalp to his cheeks.

“Feels good?” Curran purred.

“Yeah, it’s nice,” Heinwald cooed.

He closed his eyes, relaxing as Curran washed his hair. His fingers moved from his scalp to the nape of his neck, ghosting over his skin as he worked out Heinwald’s tangled curls, coating each strand in the soft suds of the shampoo. Warm water splashed over his head, rinsing the soap from his hair. Heinwald kept his eyes closed to avoid the stinging pain of soap getting in them, but doing so also made him hyper aware of Curran’s touch. Every time his fingers threaded through his hair, brushed against his neck, and massaged his scalp, it felt even more intense, more intimate. Soon he felt the same hand fall to his chin, tilting it to the side. Warm lips pressed against his, a tongue pressing past them to explore his mouth. Heat pooled in his groin, his dick hardening under the bubbles in the tub. The warm water around him began to feel cold in comparison to the scalding heat emerging from within him as a result of Curran’s touch.

Heinwald fidgeted in Curran’s grasp, turning around to face him and wrapping his legs around Curran’s hips. It was a tight squeeze, but Heinwald loved every second of huddling close to Curran in this cramped space. Curran grinded his erection against Heinwald’s making him moan and whimper into his mouth. They pulled away, a thread of saliva still connecting their lips as they panted heavily.

“Guess I’m gonna need to do a better job cleaning you Heinwald,” Curran growled, “You’re such a dirty boy.”

Heinwald whimpered as Curran’s hand wandered down his back to the curve of his ass. A finger slipped between his cheeks, teasing his puckered hole. Though it was a bit difficult without lube, Curran managed to press a finger inside, gently stroking his walls and teasing his rim.

“Curran…” Heinwald mewled.

“You’re so soft babe,” Curran purred, “Maybe we don’t even need any lube. Want me to take you right now?”

Heinwald winced as a second finger pressed at his entrance, panting as it slid inside of him.

“I’d…” he choked, “I’d rather do it on the bed… I don’t want to overheat…”

“Fine by me,” Curran laughed.

Curran kissed him on the cheek before pulling out both of his fingers. He haphazardly splashed some water over his own head, quickly washing his hair before standing up. He stepped out of the tub, grabbing a towel and quickly drying himself off. Heinwald gripped at the rim of the bathtub, standing carefully.

“Curran, can you hand me a towel?” he asked.

“Sure thing,” Curran snickered.

Curran hung the towel he had just used to dry himself off on the tip of his cock. A shit-eating grin stretched across his face as he flexed his member, the towel shaking in front of Heinwald’s face.

“Here ya go,” Curran chuckled.

Heinwald shook his head, taking the towel and smacking Curran with it.

“You’re such a child…” Heinwald sighed.

He dried himself off, carefully wringing out his long hair. His locks still weren’t completely dry, but he feared that wrapping his hair in the towel would be a turnoff. Curran snapped his prosthetic back on and took Heinwald by the hand, leading him out of the bathroom and over to the bed. As the butler had promised, a bottle of lube sat on the nightstand. Curran pushed Heinwald down into the soft cushion of the bed, grabbing the bottle of lube and climbing on top of him to plant kisses all over his body. Heinwald whimpered as Curran trailed his tongue from his chest to his groin, kissing the tip of his leaking, twitching erection. Curran unscrewed the bottle of lube, coating his fingers in the cold viscous substance. Heinwald’s breath hitched as he felt Curran’s finger probe his hole, mewling as his digit dug into his prostate. Curran locked his lips around Heinwald’s member, sucking him off as he stretched his ass.

“Curran…” Heinwald moaned, “It’s so good…”

Curran grunted happily, still suckling Heinwald’s twitching dick as he slid in another finger. Heinwald bucked his hips up into the back of Curran’s throat. Being stimulated from both the front and the back made him feel like he was floating on cloud nine. He shrieked as Curran’s thumb pressed at his perineum. Curran was hitting all of his weak spots at once, but he wanted more.

“Curran…” he panted, “Enough… I want you inside already.”

Curran pulled his head off of Heinwald’s dick, licking the salty precum from his lips.

“You’re so eager today,” he growled, “Do you love my cock that much?”

Curran poured a generous amount of lube onto his dick before positioning it at Heinwald’s entrance. Heinwald bit his lip, whimpering as he felt the thick, blunt head of Curran’s cock pressing inside of him.

“You’re so fucking hot Heinwald,” Curran cooed, “I love how happily your ass swallows me up.”

Heinwald cried out as Curran pressed deeper inside, nudging against his prostate.

“There…” he moaned, “Right there!”

“You’re so sensitive,” Curran teased, “The way you react when I hit your good spot is just too cute.”

“It feels so good Curran…”

Heinwald panted as he felt the firm press of Curran’s hips against his. He was all the way inside of him.

“Fuck, your guts feel great,” Curran grunted, “How ‘bout I rearrange them for you?”

Curran withdrew his cock until the tip tugged at his rim before plunging it back, deep inside of him. Heinwald shrieked as Curran fucked him hard and fast, churning up his insides and impaling his prostate.

“You like it when I’m rough?” Curran grunted, “You like when I use you as a fucktoy?”

Pleasure flooded Heinwald’s mind. Coherent speech was nigh impossible for him right now, only able to muster out moans of ecstasy as Curran pounded him. Curran pushed Heinwald’s knees up to his chest, thrusting even further inside.

“Sho deep…” Heinwald slurred, “It… it’s sho… haaaa….”

“Aw, babe did I break you?” Curran teased, “Use your words and tell me how you want me to fuck you.”

Heinwald swallowed hard, trying to free the words stuck in his throat.

“Fuck me hard…” Heinwald choked, “Hard and deep… Use me Curran… Fuck me Curran!”

“Damn it’s so sexy when you curse,” Curran hissed, “Looks like I’ve finally corrupted you. You’re my little slut now; my personal cock sleeve.”

Each degrading word Curran said went straight to his groin. He used to be so offended when people assumed that he was Curran’s “bitch,” but being called such dirty things while being fucked was oddly arousing. He wanted Curran to use him; to call him a bitch, a whore, a slut; to pound his ass until he saw stars.

“Yesh,” Heinwald whimpered, “I’m your cum dumpster… I’m your personal fuckhole…”

“Heh, so you like it when I call you names?” Curran scoffed.

He thrust deep inside of Heinwald, slamming hard into his prostate. Heinwald cried out at the top of his lungs, pleasure shooting up his spine. He leaned in close to Heinwald’s face, nibbling and sucking on his earlobe.

“My cute, masochistic little bitch,” Curran whispered.

“Curran…” Heinwald murmured, “I’m close… I want to…”

“Me too. Let’s cum together, Heinwald.”

Curran wrapped his fist around Heinwald’s dick, stroking him off while rutting deep inside of him. Heinwald panted, pulling Curran close and kissing him passionately. It didn’t take long for Heinwald to climax, his moans of release muffled by Curran’s kiss as his seed splattered onto his stomach. His insides tightened around Curran, sending him over the edge and making him come undone inside of him, spilling his seed into his depths. Heinwald exhaled, refreshed from orgasm, but spent after Curran’s intense lovemaking. Curran raised his hand to his cheek, brushing his hair from his face.

“Wasn’t too rough with you, was I?” Curran cooed.

“No, it felt amazing,” Heinwald replied, “I loved it.”

Curran smiled, kissing him chastely.

“I’m glad,” he said comfortingly.

Heinwald’s breathing eased as Curran pulled his softening member from his hole. His thick semen was already beginning to leak from Heinwald’s ass out onto the sheets. Curran pulled Heinwald in close to his chest, stroking his still wet hair. Heinwald relaxed into his touch, nuzzling closer to him.

“Beautiful,” Curran whispered.

“What was that?” Heinwald wondered.

“You’re so beautiful, Heinwald.”

Heinwald blushed. Just moments ago, Heinwald was relishing in being called all sorts of humiliating names, yet now, he enjoyed nothing more than being praised and complimented by Curran. He was happy that Curran found him beautiful, and wasn’t opposed to Curran speaking his mind about it.

“Curran,” Heinwald said.

“What is it gorgeous?” Curran smirked.

“Can we relax like this for just a bit longer?”

“I don’t see why not. It’s been a long week. You deserve it.”

Heinwald closed his eyes as the gentle beating of Curran’s head lulled him asleep. It was still early afternoon, but Curran would gladly let Heinwald rest for as long as he needed. He kissed him gently, lovingly, on the tip of his nose.

“You’re safe now, Heinwald,” he cooed.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oops I took way too long to write this chapter. Sorry about the delay. I've been playing way too much pokemon and drawing Dragalia Padorus.

Heinwald awoke to a knock at the door. He opened his eyes, seeing Curran, still completely nude, next to him.

“Damn, did I fall asleep?” Heinwald yawned.

“You were only out for about an hour,” Curran said.

“Why didn’t you wake me up?”

“You looked comfortable, so I didn’t want to bother you.”

Heinwald blushed as he wriggled from Curran’s grasp. As soon as he sat up, a dull, throbbing pain shot through his rear. He cringed as he stood up, his legs wobbling as he threw on his robe and headed to the door, Curran’s seed now trickling down his leg.

“You a little sore?” Curran teased.

“A bit,” Heinwald winced.

“Hey, you were the one who wanted to do it rough. Not that I was complainin’ or anything.”

“Please keep your voice down, would you?”

“Heh, a bit hypocritical for you to tell me that given how loud you were.”

The blush spreading across Heinwald’s cheeks rose to his ears.

“Curran!” he snapped, “Pardon me for not wanting everyone in the manor knowing of our bedroom activities.”

“You did ask the butler for lube,” Curran teased, “Pretty sure that’s too little too late, Hein.”

Heinwald grumbled as he placed his hand at the doorknob, the knocking still persisting. He twisted the knob, opening the door to see the same butler from before, holding their now cleaned and neatly folded clothes.

“Pardon me, Lord Heinwald,” he said, “We have finished cleaning your laundry and the estate’s chefs are preparing dinner for the Lady. Of course, Lady Dominica insisted that meals be prepared for you and your partner. It should be ready within the hour.”

“Thank you,” Heinwald replied, taking the pile of clothing from him, “Tell Lady Dominica that we shall meet her in the dining room after we have changed.”

“Of course.”

The butler bowed politely before heading back down the hallway. Heinwald closed the door behind him, gently setting the neatly folded clothes onto the bed. Curran tossed the covers off, getting out of bed to pull his clothes from the pile. He tugged his shirt over his head, letting it lay comfortably on his torso as Heinwald began dressing as well. His eyes shifted to Heinwald, now clad in the long black coat that he had picked for him from his wardrobe. His damp hair was slightly disheveled after their earlier lovemaking session, but it still cascaded beautifully down his back. Heinwald headed over to the vanity, grabbing a hairbrush from the drawer. He pulled his hair to the side, carefully working out the tangles as the brush ran through his strands like silk. Curran swallowed hard. How he wanted to be that brush, gliding through Heinwald’s soft, beautiful hair.

“Hey, Heinwald,” Curran spoke up.

“What is it?” Heinwald wondered.

Curran rubbed the back of his neck bashfully.

“Need any help brushing your hair out?” he asked.

“I am perfectly capable of doing it on my own,” Heinwald replied, “That is unless you wanted to do it.”

Heinwald approached Curran, handing him the brush and sitting down on the bed.

“Start at the bottom and then work your way up,” Heinwald instructed, “If you run into a tangle, just separate it and brush it out on its own.”

Curran gripped at the brush, positioning it at the silver and black tips of Heinwald’s hair. He exhaled as he carefully ran the brush through his strands. It slid down his hair with ease, the slight curl bouncing back whenever the brush slid off the tips. Curran shifted the brush to his prosthetic hand, tangling his real fingers in Heinwald’s locks. His hair was so soft to the touch, and it still smelled of the shampoo he used earlier.

“Curran,” Heinwald interjected, turning his head, “Is something the matter?”

“What?” Curran replied, cut off from his train of thought, “Oh nah nothin’s wrong.”

“Oh. I was just wondering why you stopped brushing. Would you like me to continue it on my own?”

“No, I’ll keep doing it.”

Curran lifted the brush to Heinwald’s scalp. He had already worked out most of the small tangles around the tips, so it would be best to attend to the flyaways around the crown of his head. Curran ran the brush down from his scalp all the way to the tips, sprawled on the comforter of the bed.

“Your hair’s so nice,” Curran purred, “Have you always kept it long?”

“I have,” Heinwald exhaled, “It grows rather quickly, so I usually only cut the tips if it begins to fray. Why do you ask? Do you think I’d look better with short hair?”

“No! I love your long hair. It’s beautiful.”

Heinwald blushed.

“I always used to worry that having long hair made me look like a girl when I was younger,” Heinwald confessed, “I remember when I was five I tried to cut it all off. I had completely massacred my bangs. My sister wouldn’t let me hear the end of it.”

“Never would have taken you for an unruly kid,” Curran chuckled, “A bratty one, maybe, but I thought you’d be too snooty to do something like cutting all of your hair off.”

“It all grew back within a few days anyway.”

“That fast?”

“I told you my hair grows quickly.”

“Yeah but it growin’ that fast is unheard of!”

Heinwald laughed as Curran brushed out the last few tangles, smoothed away the last few flyaways. He set down the brush and backed away, admiring his work.

“All done,” Curran said with pride.

“Thank you Curran,” Heinwald responded, “Now let me just find my hair tie-“

“You’re gonna tie it back after I went and brushed it for you?”

“It still needed to be brushed Curran.”

“Can you leave it down today? I like you with your hair down. Makes it easier to see all of the cute little curls.”

Heinwald shook his head, blush creeping across his cheeks.

“Well, if you insist…”

Heinwald adjusted his glasses before looking at himself in the mirror. It was nice to finally be clean again. The grime of travel had begun to weigh down his spirits, and even though he was still a fugitive on the run, at least having clean hair and wearing clean clothes could help him forget about it momentarily.

“Well, we gonna go join Lady Dominica for dinner or are you gonna keep on admiring yourself in the mirror?” Curran teased, “Not that I can blame you for doing so.”

“I wasn’t admiring myself, Curran,” Heinwald sighed, “I just wanted to make sure I looked presentable.”

“You look more than just presentable. You’re beautiful as ever.”

Heinwald sighed, grabbing onto Curran’s hand. Before he could guide him out of the room, Curran raised his hand to his lips, kissing his knuckle lightly.

“Then shall we go?” he cooed.

“I’ll show you to the dining room,” Heinwald replied, trying to hide how flustered he was.

Heinwald led Curran out of the bedroom, taking him down the halls of the manor. Even if Heinwald weren’t showing him the way, he was certain he would have been able to find his way to the dining room based on smell alone. He could already smell something delicious cooking and salivated in anticipation. Whatever it was, it would certainly beat dried jerky, old bread, and unseasoned meat that he had just hunted. They stopped in front of a door shortly past the foyer, opening it to find a large dining hall. A long rectangular table sat at the center, blanketed with a silk tablecloth. Fancily folded napkins sat atop fine porcelain plates and the wax candles in the gilded candelabra glowed at the center of the table. Lady Dominica stood up from the chair at the head of the table, coming back to greet Heinwald the same way she did earlier, with two kisses on his cheeks.

“I hope you’re hungry bambino,” Lady Dominica beamed, “I had my chefs cook all of your favorites from when you were younger.”

“Thank you zia. I appreciate it,” Heinwald replied.

“Now come, come. Sit down and relax.”

She guided the pair to the head of the table, sitting them down by her seat. Curran pulled out the chair for Heinwald, letting him sit before pushing him in closer to the table. As soon as he sat down, his eyes bulged in shock. There were at least three different types of forks and the table arrangement seemed so alien to him. After growing up poor, seeing the dining arrangements of a nobleman was enough to send him into culture shock.”

“You’re such a gentleman,” Dominica smiled.

“I’m flattered milady,” Curran sighed, “But ‘gentleman’ ain’t exactly the best term to describe me. I’m no noble like you or Heinwald; just some poor bounty hunter who was tryin’ to make ends meet… Well, until I met Heinwald that is.”

“You’re past doesn’t matter to me, Curran, was it? If you make my bambino happy and treat him well, then you are plenty more of a gentleman than half the noblemen I know. Now, would you care for some wine?”

“I’d love some, but you sure it’s alright Lady Dominica? Don’t want you to waste it on me. You don’t gotta feel like you’re obligated to-”

Curran was cut off by Heinwald jabbing his elbow into his side.

“We’ll both have a glass,” Heinwald said.

Dominica signaled to one of her maids, who immediately came over with a bottle of wine. She uncorked it, pouring the rich, red liquid into each of their glasses.

“Thought you didn’t drink,” Curran said.

“I’ll drink if it’s a high enough quality wine,” Heinwald said, “No offense to Ralph but I doubt that his establishment has any wine of Zia’s caliber.”

“Fair ‘nough. The grog at the Cock ain’t exactly the best tasting, but at least it gets you drunk fast.”

Curran lifted the glass of wine to his lips, his eyes lighting up as he took a sip. It was sweet and almost floral, and he could barely taste the bitter tinge of alcohol.

“This stuff is amazing,” Curran complimented, “I can see why you’re so picky now. You’re spoiled.”

“I just have standards Curran,” Heinwald snickered, taking a sip of his wine as well, “And they don’t only apply to drink. Consider yourself lucky that you live up to them.”

“Is it really a standard though if I’m the only guy you’ve ever been with? Feels less like standards and more like I’m settin’ the bar…”

“If you would rather think of it like that, at least know that you’ve set the bar rather high. I feel you’re the ideal partner, Curran.”

“Has the wine hit you already for you to flirt with me like this in front of your zia?”

“Am I not allowed to praise the man who constantly calls me beautiful, respects my boundaries, and keeps me safe?”

Dominica sighed happily as she twirled her glass of wine.

“Ah to be young and in love,” Dominica grinned, “Now when’s the wedding?”

That statement made both Heinwald and Curran’s faces go red. Heinwald gripped onto Curran’s hand tightly, his heart pounding out of his chest.

“Zia!” Heinwald flushed, “C-Curran and I have a bit more pressing matters to attend to at the moment…”

“I understand bambino,” she replied, “And I’ll gladly grant you any succor you two need. Treat this as your home until everything is fixed. You’ve always been so clever, so I know you’ll find a way to prove your innocence.”

The savory smell of their dinner became more potent, and chefs walked through the doors carrying silver platters laden with food. They lifted the lids, revealing a beautiful plate of chicken breast in a light white wine sauce. Capers swam in the sauce and pasta seasoned with cheese and parsley sat beside the meat. A large bowl of salad and a basket of fresh bread were placed between the three, tongs stuck into both so they could help themselves to the side dishes.

“I remember you would always ask for chicken piccata when you were younger,” Dominica said, “I hope you still enjoy it.”

“Thank you zia,” Heinwald smiled.

“Enjoy it while it’s hot!”

Heinwald picked up his knife and fork, slicing into the piece of lightly breaded chicken. As he closed his mouth around the bite, a smile stretched across his face. It was delicious. The chicken was cooked to perfection and the buttery, lemony sauce only added to its amazing taste. The taste brought him back to his youth, when he would come here with his elder sister and her fiancé. As he savored the chicken he remembered how Antonio would always play with him after dinner and when he got sleepy, he would carry him to his bedroom where Gretchen would read him a bedtime story. The nostalgia was bittersweet. His memories of his sister and Antonio were so joyful, yet that was the only place he’d ever be able to see them again. They were no more than ghosts, trapped inside of his memories.

“Bambino, is the chicken not cooked to your liking?” Dominica asked.

Heinwald snapped back to reality, noticing that Curran had already almost cleared his plate, meanwhile his own chicken breast was barely picked at.

“Oh no, it’s delicious zia,” Heinwald replied, “I was just lost in thought. This meal brought back some wonderful memories of Gretchen and Antonio.”

The air around Dominica turned somber. Though she still had a smile across her face, Heinwald could see the sorrow in her eyes, mourning her deceased son.

“I’m sure they’re here with us, enjoying our company,” Dominica grinned, “They have joined the flow of mana with Ilia, so even if we can’t see them, my Toni and your beloved sister will always be with us. Now come bambino! Finish your dinner so we can have dessert.”

Heinwald immediately perked up at the promise of dessert. Though Curran often teased him for his sweet tooth, desserts were an immediate source of comfort for him. As Heinwald continued eating his chicken, not too quickly as not to be impolite, he turned his gaze to Curran. Curran was certainly enjoying the meal, scarfing down the chicken and swallowing up the pasta with a big slurp.

“This food is amazing,” Curran praised, “Thanks for your hospitality Lady Dominica, and please send my compliments to the chef.”

“I am glad you enjoy it,” Dominica giggled.

“It looks like you’re enjoying it a bit too much, Curran,” Heinwald sighed, “Your table manners are worse than a wild boar’s.”

Curran wiped his mouth with the napkin, “M’ bad…”

“Bambino, there’s no need to scold him…” Dominica said, “Curran, you’re just fine.”

Heinwald set his fork down as soon as he had cleaned his plate, eager for their dessert. Lady Dominica called for her servants, who soon brought in three cups of what looked like custard with a red sauce and a dollop of whipped cream on top.

“Is that…” Heinwald beamed, “White chocolate and raspberry panna cotta?”

“Ah, so you still like it,” Dominica smiled.

“It was my favorite dessert when I was a kid. Zia, your sharp memory certainly hasn’t faded.”

“Well, enjoy your panna cotta, bambino.”

As soon as the butler placed the bowl of panna cotta in front of Heinwald, he immediately picked up his spoon and began to dig in. The panna cotta is perfectly smooth and silky, its creamy texture pleasing in his mouth. He lifted a hand to his cheek as he savored the sweet taste of white chocolate and raspberry coating his palate. Curran didn’t have much taste for desserts, but he thought it would be rude to not at least try it. If all else failed, he could just give the rest to Heinwald, who clearly loved this confection. He dipped his spoon into the bowl, scooping out a mound of the panna cotta. It jiggled like pudding in his spoon, the raspberry coulis still clinging to the pure white of the white chocolate cream. Hesitantly, he took a bite. To his surprise, the dessert actually tasted amazing. The tartness of the raspberry coulis set off the sweetness of the white chocolate and the creamy texture was refreshing.

“This is really good,” Curran commented, “This… panna colada?”

“It’s a panna cotta, Curran,” Heinwald corrected, scraping the bottom of his bowl with his spoon in an attempt to get every last drop of the dessert, “It’s basically a Napolese pudding.”

“Certainly beats the pudding back in Alberia. That stuff is way too sweet for my taste.”

“I enjoy both, but I’ve always loved zia’s panna cotta.”

Curran immediately turned to Lady Dominica, who was grinning like a doting mother as Heinwald enjoyed his treat.

“So you made this?” Curran asked, “I never knew you were so talented of a baker.”

“Oh it’s nothing,” Lady Dominica blushed, “Panna cotta is something I’ve made since I was a bambina, and it’s surprisingly easy to make if you have the time and the ingredients. I could give you my recipe if you’d like!”

“Really? I ain’t too good with baking myself, but I wouldn’t mind giving it a try. Thanks Lady Dominica.”

“Please Curran, call me zia.”

Once everyone had finished their desserts, Heinwald took the opportunity to explain their situation in full detail to Dominica. Though finding out of the Cardinal’s possession came as a shock to her, it made her even more determined to help Heinwald find a way to clear his name.

“Zia,” Heinwald explained, “Since Curran and I have been on the run, we have had few opportunities to find a way to exorcise the Cardinal. But now that we have a sanctuary here in Napoli, if only for a few days, this time is crucial for our research and investigation. I haven’t been here in at least a decade, but do you know if the Napoli Library is still open?”

“Of course it is,” Dominica replied, “Do you think you might be able to find a method of exorcism in there?”

“I doubt Napoli has any influence by the occult, so the library is the only other place I can think of to gain information. Most spells are found in tomes after all.”

“I can definitely understand your reasoning bambino, but I don’t know if books on exorcising demons, let alone draconic deities, would be available to the public. It might, however, be kept in the restricted section.”

“Intriguing. Zia, do you think you’ll be able to permit our entry? You are a high ranking noblewoman here.”

“I’m not certain, but I will talk to the librarian about it in the morning. I’ll see what I can do.”

“Much appreciated zia.”

“Anything for my bambino.”

Heinwald stood up from his chair to give Dominica a hug.

“I think I might return to the guest room for the evening,” Heinwald said, “As much as I would love to catch up with you, I’m still a bit tired from the journey here.”

“You rest as much as you need, bambino,” Dominica assured.

She gave Heinwald two kisses on his cheeks before he parted ways with her.

“Curran, do you want to join me?” he asked.

“Nah, I’m not really that sleepy,” Curran responded, “I’ll meet you back in the guest room.”

“Ok then. I love you. Goodnight.”

Heinwald gave Curran a quick kiss on the lips, a gentle peck of affection before he retired for the night. Once he left the dining room, Curran slunk back in his chair, shaking his head.

“Is something the matter Curran?” Dominica worried.

“Well,” Curran replied, “I really appreciate you taking us in and all Lady Domini- I mean… zia, but I’ve been wondering somethin’ for a while.”

“What would that be?”

“Heinwald told me that your son was killed by the Inquisition. He was executed in public when all he did was defend himself. If I were in your shoes, I’d hate the Inquisition and anyone who went along with their ways. Why are you so willing to help us? The Cardinal of the Inquisition has been possessed by Doppelgänger. Wouldn’t you say that’s his well deserved karma?”

Dominica shook her head.

“Curran…” she sighed, “If I am being honest, I don’t think I’ll ever forget what the Inquisition did to my son, nor am I obligated to forgive them, but Heinwald… he’s all I have left. My son is gone, my husband is gone, if I didn’t have him, a kindred spirit who lost his family as well, I’d be all alone in this world. That’s why I’m willing to bury the hatchet with the Inquisition, help Heinwald get his position back, and help save the Cardinal, however bloodied that hatchet may be…”

“You’re a strong woman, Lady Dominica… Ya know, a few years ago, I was wronged by the Inquisition myself. I was excommunicated, stripped of the opportunity to ever join the Ilian clergy just because someone I considered a friend and comrade lied about me. I swore I’d never forgive him, that I’d gladly take their label as a heretic so long as I could spite him and the Ilian faith with my existence…”

“You don’t seem that way now.”

“Heh, oddly enough, Heinwald was the one who helped me move on too. Even with everything that happened to him, his faith in the Church has never once wavered. With every obstacle we faced, he’s become more and more determined to make things right. I feel people like him, ones who embody all the ideals of the Ilian Church, are worth fighting for, worth protecting. He’s like a light amidst all the darkness and corruption in the Inquisition. He reminds me that men of the cloth are still capable of love and kindness. Yet…”

“Yet what?”

“Yet I can’t help but wonder what life would be like if we just gave up on saving the Cardinal. If we just changed our names and lived out in the countryside as simple farmers, just the two of us, far away from the Church and the Inquisition and cultists and dragons… Just living a humble, peaceful life with him.”

“It certainly sounds to me like you’re completely taken with my bambino. I am willing to keep you two hidden as long as need be, and if you wish to restart your lives, I am more than happy to give you the resources you need. But the choice is up to you. What do you think would make the both of you happy?”

Curran balled his palm into a fist, his fingernails digging red crescents into the palm of his hand. He was in a tough position. He wanted to make Heinwald happy, and feared that pursuing the case further would only end in heartbreak. What if they couldn’t find a way to exorcise the Cardinal? What if they were caught and executed by the Inquisition before they could? How many nights would they have to spend on the run if even this city, their sanctuary, became too dangerous for them to stay in? It would be so much easier to just give up on the Cardinal and live out the rest of their lives as new men, but he knew Heinwald was not that kind of guy. He would want to see it through to the end, no matter how much he suffered trying to bring the truth to light.

“I…” Curran said, “I’m gonna keep trying. Heinwald and I will find a way to clear his name and rescue the Cardinal. Then once this is all over, once we can live our lives without fear of being caught and killed, then we can settle down together.”

Dominica smiled, pulling Curran into a hug, “I knew you were perfect for my bambino. Take care of him Curran. Make sure he doesn’t push himself too hard. And when the dust settles and you two are safe, please allow me to walk him down the aisle at your wedding.”

Curran chuckled, blush lightly spreading across his face, “You have my word, zia.”


	17. Chapter 17

Curran and Heinwald walked down the cobblestone streets of Napoli, bound for the grand library that Heinwald frequented in his youth. Having clean clothes, a bed to sleep in, and leisure to investigate reinvigorated Heinwald, fueling his desire to make things right once more. He never would have thought those things would be considered luxuries, but after his time on the run, Heinwald would never take them for granted again.

“So you think the restricted section might have some sort of way to help the Cardinal?” Curran wondered.

“It’s the best bet we have,” Heinwald replied, “It doesn’t even have to be an explicitly written spell or recipe for an antidote. Even something like information on Doppelgänger or the history of his cult could help me figure out a way to perform an exorcism.”

“’Fraid I might not be of much help… Never been too great with magic myself.”

“Well you can always help me carry books and grab additional ones for me while I’m reading.”

“So I’d be your errand boy then, huh?”

“I prefer the term ‘assistant,’ Curran.”

“Yeah, no offense babe but I’d rather not. Maybe we can split up. You can check out the library and I’ll ask around town about the Inquisition. It’d probably be smart to see what ol’ Doppel has been doing in the Cardinal’s body now that we’re in hiding.”

“You know, that actually does sound like a good plan. Just do try to be tactful when you ask these questions. I don’t want either of us to come off as suspicious characters.”

“Gotcha.”

Heinwald stopped in front of the city’s library, turning to face Curran before they went their separate ways to do their investigations.

“Shall we meet back here or would you prefer to just reconvene at zia’s manor?” Heinwald wondered.

“I’m fine with meeting up here,” Curran responded, “Is 5 PM good for you?”

“I could stay in the library all night, but knowing zia she’ll probably want us to dine with her tonight; so yes, 5 PM will work.”

“Alright. See ya tonight, and good luck.”

“Same to you.”

Curran kissed Heinwald chastely before heading off into the town to gather information. Once Curran had left, Heinwald climbed the stairs to the library, pushing open the large doors to the spacious interior. The smell of parchment lingered in the air and books lined the walls to the ceiling. Scholars sat at tables or relaxed in comfortable chairs while devouring the countless books available in the building. Heinwald approached the librarian’s desk, ringing a bell to call one over. A woman organizing the bookshelves turned her head, sliding down her ladder and rushing over to the desk.

“How may I help you sir?” she asked.

“I believe Lady Dominica has put in a request to grant me access to the restricted section,” he replied, “It should be under my name, Heinwald.”

“Let me check that.”

The librarian looked through the files on her desk, checking the papers and notes before fishing out a small pass.

“Ah yes, here it is,” she beamed, handing Heinwald the card, “Just show this to the security guard in front of the restricted section and he will let you in. I’m afraid that even with the pass, books in the restricted section cannot be rented, so you will have to read them here.”

“That’s perfectly fine,” Heinwald replied, “By the way, do you have any parchment and a pen that I could use?”

“Of course.”

The librarian grabbed a few sheets of blank parchment and a fountain pen from the desk drawer, handing it to him.

“Please enjoy our selection,” she said, “The restricted section is in the very back.”

Heinwald thanked her, taking the supplies and heading to the back of the library. Once he reached the door to the restricted section, he was immediately stopped by an armed guard.

“May I see your pass?” the guard barked.

Heinwald handed him the card that the librarian had given him. The guard carefully looked it over, holding it to the light to make sure it wasn’t a convincing forgery. He nodded his head, handing it back to Heinwald and taking his keys out of his pocket. The guard unlocked the door, holding it open for Heinwald to enter.

“You may pass,” he said.

As soon as Heinwald stepped through the door, the guard immediately closed behind him. Suddenly the room lit up, piercing the dark, windowless room with glowing orbs of mana. Mana fonts of all different sizes and color floated around the room, each attuned to different element. A few of the shadow aspected orbs floated around Heinwald, glowing bright violet and illuminating the path before him.

“Intriguing,” Heinwald commented, “They use mana fonts for a light source. How perfect for a mage’s study.”

As Heinwald walked forward towards the bookshelves, the orbs followed him like magical familiars. He ran his fingers along the leather bound spines, looking for titles that might relate to the Cardinal’s possession.

“_An Apothecary’s Guide to Potion Brewing, Field Guide to Magical Beasts of the Realm,…_” Heinwald read off the titles to himself, “Aha! _The Necronomicon_.”

As soon as he reached for the book, he heard the door open behind him. He turned his head as another patron walked in, green, wind mana fonts floating towards her and illuminating her face. Even with the lighting from the mana, it was still hard for Heinwald to see her face, as her long, brown bangs obscured her eyes. Her skin was pale and her posture poor, but she looked young, probably no more than eighteen years old. Her lips curled shyly and she gripped at the purple fabric of her loose fitting gown.

“U…umm…” she whispered, “I… I’m sorry… was I … I wasn’t interrupting anything, was I?”

“Not at all,” Heinwald replied, “I just came in here to do a bit of research. Pay me no mind.”

“O-oh? You’re a magic researcher too?”

“Yes. I studied dark healing arts at Caldia.”

“M-me too… Well, the Caldia and healing arts part… I… I’m currently a graduate student there… I… I’m doing independent research for the wind department…”

“Oh? What are you researching?”

“I… I’m afraid I can’t tell you…”

“Confidential? I understand. Regardless, it is still nice to meet a fellow mage who trained at Caldia. Would you mind telling me your name?”

“A… Akasha… My name’s Akasha.”

“Akasha, it is a pleasure to meet you. My name is Heinwald. I apologize if I’m intruding upon your normal study place, but I promise that I won’t disturb you. I know how rigorous Caldia’s curriculum can be.”

“I… ok… It’s nice to meet you too…”

Heinwald sat down at the desk, flipping open the book and beginning to read. As he scoured over the pages, he felt someone else’s presence over his shoulder.

“Akasha?” he wondered, “Is something the matter?”

“Well… umm…” she mumbled, “I… I was reading that book yesterday… Y-you can keep reading it, but do you mind if I check to see if my bookmark is still there?”

Heinwald closed the book, handing it to her.

“If you were reading it already, I’ll just find something else. I wouldn’t want to disrupt your research.”

“Are you sure? Is that really ok with you?”

“I can read it once you are finished. Still, it is a bit surprising that a young girl like you would be reading about mythos of abyssal deities. Caldia’s research policies certainly have changed.”

“I… It’s a bit more complicated than that… Yes I know the topic seems heretical, but by reading on the rituals of the past, I can learn what not to do in my research.”

“Hmm… It appears the two of us aren’t that different then. Akasha, would you mind if I modify my offer?”

“Huh?”

“You needn’t go into depth about what your research entails, but as long as it doesn’t break confidentiality, could you tell me what you have learned about the abyssal Gods?”

“S-sure. B-but why do you want to know about them?”

“My reason is complicated too… but I can assure you that I will not use the information for evil.”

“W-well… I guess… m-maybe you can read it with me? Th-that is, if you don’t mind starting at Hastur’s cycle…”

Akasha sat down next to Heinwald, her long, brown hair brushing up against his shoulder. She flipped the pages to the middle of the book, stopping at a page marked with a green ribbon.

“W-would you mind reading it with me?” she stammered.

“Hmm… Hastur isn’t the one I was looking into, but I see no harm in reading up on him when I could gain useful information,” Heinwald answered, “Thank you, Akasha.”

“O-of course!”

Akasha sighed nervously as her eyes made contact with Heinwald’s, immediately shifting her gaze to the book. Heinwald paid her no mind. He was a fast reader, but went at her pace, waiting for her to turn the page as he absorbed and analyzed information from the text.

_“Hastur, the King in Yellow,”_ he thought to himself, _“Half-brother of Cthulhu, he is the Abysswyrm of Wind and the ‘Gate’ to the Ancient One himself, Azathoth. He is often associated with immortality, preying off of mankind’s greed and fear…”_

“Hastur sure is fascinating,” Akasha commented, “Immortality… Us healers seek the preservation of life as well… In a way, are we so different from him? After all, granting eternal life does preserve life, in a way…”

“When you put it that way, I suppose so,” Heinwald replied, “However what keeps us healers from delving into the realm of gods and insanity is our knowledge that life is fleeting and fragile. Striving for immortality borders on heresy.”

“Hypothetically speaking of course…” Akasha clarified, “If granted the chance to live forever, I feel that it would be foolish to not accept the offer. Never having to fear death, being able to use my eternal life to help others, I see not how it could be considered greedy or heretical to praise such an ideal.”

“But even with an eternal life, you would be surrounded by death,” Heinwald sighed, “Family, friends, even your own children would grow old and die while you kept living on. Even the lifespan of Qilin or Sylvans would pass in an instant, as fleeting as the life of an insect. Does immortality not seem like a curse then; one which eats away at your sanity as you remain helpless to stay the cruel hand of time that rends those who you care about from your grasp?”

Akasha’s demeanor changed, a smirk creeping across her mouth and her eyes slivering into a squint.

“Ho?” she cooed, her tone deeper and more mature, “Your argument makes some fine points, but it ignores one crucial detail. You say that one would have to abandon their sanity in order to obtain immortality, but what if one were never sane in the first place? Would it not be thrilling to be praised as a benevolent deity, all knowing and wise from our eternity of gathering knowledge? Would it not inspire you to share our wisdom with those poor lost lambs who crawl and grovel until they are ultimately herded to their deity?”

“To be able to wield such power without succumbing to corruption is a fine ideal, but I fear that reality would cause any man to go mad from too much knowledge, too much life, too much death,” Heinwald retorted, “Still, I find this debate to be quite entertaining. It has been a great while since I have enjoyed a battle of wits.”

Akasha shook her head, reverting back to her normal, shy self.

“O-oh… t-thank you,” she stammered, “Of course I would never actually give in to the desire for immortality… It… it is just a fascinating topic to analyze… to think about the pros and cons of it…”

“I understand,” Heinwald chuckled, “After all, looking at counter arguments is a crucial part of researching your hypothesis. Now, shall we continue reading?”

“S-sure,” she replied bashfully.

***

Curran tapped his foot impatiently outside of the library, constantly looking over to the clocktower in the town’s center. It was 5:30 PM. What was taking Heinwald so long? He could understand getting absorbed in a case, but Heinwald was never the kind of guy to be late. He leaned up against one of the stone pillars, making himself comfortable as he waited. A little girl ran up the stairs, a black beret sitting atop her head of long, ash blonde hair. She looked to Curran, twiddling her thumbs as she approached him.

“Umm…” she whispered, “Have you seen a girl with long brown hair in a loose purple dress around here? She… she said she was going to be at the library, but I haven’t seen her come out yet.”

“Waitin’ for your friend?” Curran replied.

“My big sister…” the little girl shuffled.

Curran crouched down on his knee to make eye contact with the girl. Sadness and fear lingered in her violet eyes. The poor girl must be worried sick about her elder sister.

“I know how you feel,” Curran assured, rubbing her head, “I’m waiting for my partner too. It’s takin’ him a long time, but I’m sure he’s fine. He probably just found a good book and is completely caught up in it. I’m sure that’s the same for your sister too.”

“We can’t…” the little girl choked, “My sister and I can’t be out too late… We need to go home before sundown…”

“Hmm… Well, how about I wait here with you? And if it’s dark when she comes out, I can walk you two home.”

“But what about your partner?”

“I’m sure he wouldn’t mind me bein’ a good Samaritan and helpin’ you out. My name’s Curran by the way. What’s yours lil’ miss?”

“L-Lathna…”

“Lathna? That’s a pretty name.”

“T-thank you.”

“Lathna, I thought I told you not to talk to strangers…” a feminine voice said from the library doorway.

“Don’t worry Akasha,” Heinwald’s voice said, “He’s with me.”

Curran turned his head to see Heinwald standing in the doorway to the library alongside a girl who fit the description of Lathna’s sister.

“A-Akasha,” Lathna whimpered, “Y-you’re late…”

“I’m sorry Lathna,” Akasha apologized, “I got a bit distracted. This kind man helped me out quite a bit with my research.”

“Oh…” Lathna shivered, her gaze shifting to Heinwald.

“So this is your younger sister?” Heinwald wondered.

“Yes,” Akasha replied, “And this must be your partner…”

Curran extended his hand, “Akasha, was it? The name’s Curran.”

“Charmed,” Akasha replied, delicately shaking his hand, “I… I wish I could talk longer, but I’m afraid Lathna and I must return home.”

“That’s fair,” Heinwald said, “Will I see you again tomorrow?”

“It… It’s a date,” Akasha blushed, “Now come Lathna…”

Curran furrowed his brow as Akasha gave Heinwald a hug. He normally wouldn’t mind Heinwald making allies that could help them in their case, but based on her body language, it seemed like Akasha wanted to be more than just allies. Curran balled his fist and gritted his teeth. He knew that Heinwald was loyal and didn’t seem like the type to cheat, but he couldn’t help but feel jealous when an attractive girl who had similar interests to him was showing clear signs of affection towards him. Once she separated, she grabbed Lathna’s hand and guided her down the stairs, heading off to the east.

“Y’know you kept me waiting too Hein,” Curran grumbled, “I thought we were going to meet here at 5…”

“My apologies Curran, but I was able to gather some interesting information today,” Heinwald informed, “I’ll tell you when we return to zia’s manor.”

Curran grabbed onto Heinwald’s hand, squeezing it hard. Heinwald cringed as Curran tugged him down the stairs, practically dragging him back to the manor. Dominica greeted them with hugs and kisses as soon as they walked through the door, like a happy mother eager to learn about her children’s day at school.

“Come now bambinos, dinner is ready,” she beamed, ushering them to the dining room.

The three took their seats at the table, noticing silver domes atop their plates to keep their food warm.

“Thank you zia,” Heinwald smiled, “What’s on the menu tonight?”

“Veal saltimbocca and polenta.”

“Sounds wonderful. What do you think Curran?”

Curran clicked his tongue, “Yeah, its fine.”

“Curran, don’t be rude,” Heinwald scolded.

“Are you not too fond of veal?” Dominica fretted, “I can have my chefs cook you a different dish if you would prefer.”

“No, it’s alright zia,” Curran assured her, “I like veal. Sounds good after a long day.”

“Well, lets not just wait around them. Eat up!” Dominica cheered.

Her servants poured them each a glass of wine before removing the silver domes from their plates. Steam wafted up from the dish, the warm blanket soon after dissipating into the air around them. The prosciutto wrapped around the meat glistened temptingly, soaking in the veal’s succulent juices. Sage speckled the tender meat, and the cut rested atop a beautiful golden bed of polenta cake. Heinwald grabbed some salad from the table’s bowl and began to dig into his dinner.

“How did you enjoy the restricted section by the way?” Dominica asked, slicing off a piece of her veal.

Heinwald swallowed his mouthful of salad and set down his fork.

“Quite enlightening,” Heinwald raved, “The collection of knowledge in the restricted section is incredible. If I had more time I’d love to read every book in there.”

“You said you found somethin’ that’ll help with the case,” Curran mumbled through a mouthful of polenta, “Care to share?”

“Ah yes,” Heinwald explained, “The scholar I met, Akasha, is studying up on the ancient Gods of the Abyss. In exchange for sharing the book I had claimed first with her, she told me some interesting information, namely the hierarchy of Abyssals.”

“What is that, dear?” Dominica wondered.

“In Ilian faith, our Goddess Ilia reigns as the Queen of all mana with the Holywyrm Elysium at her side,” Heinwald began, “However, the Abyss is polytheistic, and each of their wyrms are treated as deities themselves. I suppose their equivalent to Ilia would be the Ancient One, Azathoth. He is supposedly the father of all of the Abyssal dragons, and rules at the top of the hierarchy. After him comes his son, the shadow Abysswyrm, Nyarlathotep, then his grandson, the light Abysswyrm Yog’Sothoth, and his great-grandson, the water Abysswyrm Cthulhu.”

“Such peculiar names,” Dominica commented.

“I suppose they would best be referred to as the class of kings and princes,” Heinwald continued, “After that comes their class akin to nobility, including the wind Abysswyrm Hastur and the flame Abysswyrm Cthugha. These deities are still powerful, yet they pale in comparison to the regal class. After that is the class of warriors. Ironically enough, our foe Doppelgänger fits into this social echelon. It is a page of Nyarlathotep, a being strong enough to subjugate the frail minds of humans, but it could easily be expunged by its superiors.”

“Well that’s a bit disheartening,” Curran sighed, “Doppel fried your hands and left you unable to use magic for a week, but you’re tellin’ me that it’s one of the weaker Abyssals?”

“Fear not Curran,” Heinwald assured, “If I keep researching, perhaps I could figure out a way use his fealty to his superiors against him.”

“You’re not gonna summon one of the Abysswyrms, are ya?”

“I would never do something so heretical. However, if I can find a way to use an invocation of the Abysswyrms without sacrificing my sanity, perhaps I can fool it into submission and use that opportunity to expel it from the Cardinal’s body, and I’m certain that Akasha would be willing to help me out.”

Curran clutched at his fork. At the mention of Akasha’s name he was assaulted by another wave of jealousy. He couldn’t help but fear that she was trying to steal him away.

“That Akasha,” he said, “Is she a mage too?”

“Yes actually,” Heinwald replied, “She’s a graduate student at my alma mater, researching invocation to improve the healing efficiency of wind mana.”

“You two seemed to get along well…”

“Well, it was nice to have a scholarly discussion with her.”

“A scholarly discussion, huh?”

Curran pushed away his plate of food, suddenly losing his appetite.

“I’m not really that hungry anymore,” Curran hissed, “I’ll meet you in the bedroom.”

“Wait,” Heinwald said, “Curran you haven’t even told me about your…”

Before Heinwald had finished, Curran had already left the dining room. Heinwald stared down at Curran’s half eaten plate and sighed.

“Zia, I’m sorry Curran is being so rude,” Heinwald apologized.

“Think nothing of it bambino,” Dominica assured, “He probably is tired from a long day.”

“If you say so…”

Heinwald picked at the rest of his meal. He wished he could have enjoyed it more, but after Curran’s exit, he felt his appetite diminish as well. Heinwald tried to eat whatever else he could stomach before excusing himself as well, heading back to the guest bedroom. In there he found Curran, sulking on the bed.

“If you’re still upset about me taking an extra 30 minutes I apologize,” Heinwald said.

“Heh, you can be so dense sometimes do you know that?” Curran sneered, “It’s pretty damn obvious that Akasha chick likes you.”

“I don’t see what you mean Curran. We were simply researching and nothing more. Besides, she’s seven years younger than me.”

“That way she looked at you and said ‘it’s a date…’ Looked to me like she didn’t think it was research.”

“Curran, you’re being immature. There’s no need to read so deeply into her helping me out.”

“WELL SORRY FOR BEING JEALOUS THAT SOMEONE ELSE IS AFTER MY BOYFRIEND!”

Curran stood up from the bed, pulling Heinwald into a tight hug and passionate kiss. Heinwald bit Curran’s lower lip, making him lurch away in pain.

“Damn,” Curran cursed, “I don’t mean to be possessive or nothing but…”

“Why don’t you trust me?” Heinwald scowled.

“What?”

“You seem to think that if Akasha is interested in me, then the feelings must be mutual. Even if she does want to pursue romance with me, I’ll turn her down. I’m your _boyfriend_ Curran. Why don’t you have faith in me?”

“Well it’s not that I don’t trust you…”

“Really? Because it certainly sounded like you thought I was going to leave you for her. You know me Curran. You know that I’m not the promiscuous type, so why do you doubt me even when I assure you that I have no feelings for her?”

Curran hung his head in shame. He couldn’t believe he let his jealous rear its ugly green head. He trusted Heinwald, it was just Akasha that he couldn’t bring himself to trust.

“I’m sorry acting this way…” Curran said sincerely, “I do trust you, and I love you. That’s why I don’t want to lose you…”

“You won’t lose me,” Heinwald assured, “I promise. Now would you mind telling me about any information you were able to gather today?”

“Oh yeah… So apparently things ain’t lookin’ too hot at the Church. They’ve been performing an all time record of ‘baptisms,’ but apparently when family members come home from being baptized, they act…”

“Like those possessed by Doppelgänger’s cultists…”

“Bingo. So looks like Doppel has been expanding his influence.”

“Any rumors about us?”

“Fortunately none yet in this town, though for all I know they could be saying all sorts of shit about us in the next town over… Also, I was able to get this.”

Curran reached into his pocket, pulling out a bag of rupies.

“Did some labor to help get some info out of the local artisans,” Curran explained, “But they were willing to pay me for it in cash as well as info, so we got a little bit of spendin’ money now.”

“Well that’s good news,” Heinwald replied, “Perhaps we’ll be able to buy new weapons.”

“I’ll try an’ do some favors for the local blacksmith. That way I can get rupies, info, and maybe even a discount on arms.”

“Good idea. I’ll keep researching the Abyssals. We’re so close to figuring out how to save the Cardinal and clear our names Curran. I can almost taste it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been trying to add lots of detail and I don't want a rushed ending, so it looks like this fic is gonna be more than 20 chapters!


	18. Chapter 18

Curran wiped the sweat from his brow, stretching as he brought in the last shipment of ore for the town’s elderly blacksmith. He set it down by the hearth, watching Napoli’s blacksmith hard at work, hammering hot iron into the blade of a sword.

“Here ya go sir,” Curran said.

“Thank you again for your help,” the blacksmith smiled, “I know it may seem menial, but it’s so hard to find people willing to help bring in shipments, especially travelling adventurers.”

“You think with this bein’ a port town, the call for adventurers to help transport these goods would be in high demand.”

“It is, but so many adventurers nowadays only take the highest paying jobs, like hunting fiends and searching for lost treasures. They consider tasks like these to be below them.”

“A damn shame that they do… Some people gotta learn that work is work. Ain’t gotta be glamorous as long as you’re helping out and getting enough coin to fill your belly.”

“I wish more adventurers thought like you Curran. Why just the other day a mercenary came through town bragging about how he only helps the people who can pay the highest amount. We are a relatively well off town, but some of the fees he was suggesting were enough to put any of us local artisans out of business.”

Curran sighed. He remembered a time when he got so desperate for cash that he would easily stab former clients in the back if a rival client offered to pay more. He was a changed man, but his past greed would always stay as a skeleton in his closet.

“Everyone’s tryin’ to make their way in the world,” Curran exhaled, “But sometimes greed gets the better of us…”

“By the way, allow me to get your payment for today,” the blacksmith said, “You certainly have worked hard and earned it.”

The blacksmith retreated into the back room, coming out with a decent sized bag of rupies and a beautifully crafted ax.

“Here you are,” he offered, handing both to Curran.

“With all due respect, sir, this is too much,” Curran replied, shocked, “You don’t need to give me this weapon for free. I was plannin’ on buyin’ it offa you.”

“You’ve earned it. It’s been so long since an adventurer was willing to help. I’m no spring chicken anymore. Carrying the ore from the port to the smithy would have taken me days and my back would have been shot from doing so. Thanks to your help, I was able to speed up my efficiency at the forge. Besides, any adventurer worth his salt needs a weapon to protect himself with.”

Curran took the ax, gauging its weight in his hand. The material was sturdy, but surprisingly light for a battle-ax. It would certainly be a great help in his upcoming battles and opened up more part time job opportunities.

“Thank you so much sir,” Curran bowed, “Any time ya need more help, just put it up on the town’s quest bulletin. I’ll be glad to help out again.”

“Much appreciated,” the blacksmith grinned, “If that was the last shipment, you’re free to go for the day. Thank you again for all of your help.”

Curran waved goodbye to the blacksmith and headed out of the workshop. He looked up to the town’s clock tower, checking to make sure he wasn’t late to meet up with Heinwald at the library. Fortunately for him, he still had a good hour before their appointed meeting time, and given how Heinwald tended to get a bit distracted in the library, he might even have more time.

He decided to take his time as he strolled past the merchant storefronts in the artisanal district. Now that he had some money from taking on odd jobs and requests, he could probably buy Heinwald a nice gift, maybe some new clothes or even a fancy dessert. Curran perused the various stalls and shops, looking through the pristine windows for anything that Heinwald might like. He stopped in his tracks as soon as he reached a jewelry store, a sign reading “storewide sale” in the window. He looked down at his bag of rupies. Jewelry was usually pretty expensive, but he figured there was no harm in looking. Curran opened the door to the shop, stepping inside to look at their wares.

“Welcome,” the proprietor said from behind the counter, adjusting her glasses, “Is there anything I can help you with today, sir?”

“I’m just lookin’,” Curran replied.

“Please don’t hesitate to ask if you need any help.”

He gazed down into the glass cases, examining the beautiful jewelry on display. Pearl necklaces, silver charm bracelets, shimmering diamond earrings: all of their wares certainly looked beautiful, but he wasn’t certain if any of them were to Heinwald’s taste. He moved onto the next case, admiring the puzzle rings and lockets presented. Heinwald did love things like that, but Curran knew himself too well. He’d probably lose the instructions or mess up the puzzle so it could not be solved. A locket might work, but he had no idea what picture to put in it. A picture of his sister? Of him? Of he and Heinwald together? He shook his head and moved onto the next box.

Curran swallowed hard. This case was filled with nothing but wedding rings. It was a vast collection of beautiful gold and platinum bands, embedded with diamonds and other fine crystals. He immediately fixated on one, a beautiful gold band, embedded with black diamonds and amethyst. In the center of the ring was a sparkling diamond, cradled in what looked like a dragon’s claw. It was a stunning ring, and Heinwald would love it, but this was a wedding ring. If he bought this for Heinwald, there was no way he could dismiss it as a simple gift. It would be a full-blown marriage proposal.

“Excuse me,” Curran asked the jeweler, “How much is this ring? The one with the dragon claw and the diamonds.”

He pointed to the wedding ring, making the jeweler smile in delight.

“You have wonderful taste sir,” she beamed, “And that one just so happens to be on sale! It normally sells for 4,000 rupies, but we have it marked for half off.”

Curran rubbed his chin. 2,000 rupies wasn’t a bad price for a wedding ring, and thanks to the blacksmith giving him a weapon for free, he had enough money to pay for it.

“I’ll take it,” Curran said, bringing out his bag of rupies and coinpurse.

He handed the rupies to the jewler, who began to count them out to make sure he had enough. Once she checked the amount, she nodded her head and pulled out her key to unlock the case and retrieve the ring.

“What kind of box would you like for it?” she asked, “Proposing to your special someone?”

Curran rubbed the back of his neck, “Yeah, I am. And any box is fine.”

“I’ll get you the purple velvet lined one. It goes well with the amethyst in the ring.”

She grabbed a box from their selection, placing the ring inside before handing it off to her customer.

“Thank you for your patronage,” she smiled, “Good luck with your proposal! I hope she says yes.”

Curran slightly cringed when the jeweler said “she,” but at the same time, he knew how uncommon gay marriage was in Grastaea, especially with how homophobic the Ilian Church was. He put the ring in his pocket and headed back out into the streets. His heart was pounding in his chest. He was really going to ask Heinwald to marry him. It felt surreal. The question was, where would he propose? Should he ask in front of Dominica? Should he take him out to dinner? Should he bring him to a nice, romantic location before popping the question? Curran pulled the ring out of his pocket, looking at it one more time and picturing it around Heinwald’s delicate finger.

“I suppose I’ll know when to ask when the time is right,” he said to himself.

He put the ring back in his pocket and began making his way to the library, eager to see Heinwald.

***

Heinwald flipped through the pages of _The Necronomicon_, rubbing his chin in thought. Over the past few days, he and Akasha had discussed the nature, hierarchy, and power of the Abyssals. With a bit more research, he’d certainly be able to find a way to exorcise the Cardinal.

“Um, Heinwald,” Akasha whispered from the doorway, two mugs of hot tea in her hand, “I brought our drinks.”

“Thank you Akasha,” he smiled tenderly, signaling for her to come over and join him.

She sat down next to him, placing his drink in front of him. It was a hot, steaming milk tea, filled with tons of sugar and cream, just like how Heinwald liked it. He took a sip, enjoying the refreshing creaminess before setting it down.

“Is your research going well?” she asked, sipping at her own drink.

“Thanks to your help, yes,” Heinwald beamed, “The R’yleh language was a bit hard to grasp at first, but your translation has been a huge boon. With that, I think I might be able to craft a spell that will grant me the authority of one of the great ancient ones without summoning one.”

“He-Heinwald… I-if you don’t mind me asking… Didn’t you say your foe was one of the lesser gods? Why just cut the spell off at authority? I-if Doppelgänger finds out that you’re just impersonating his lord, won’t that only enrage him?”

“If I go any further than granting myself authority, I fear I might go insane myself. I do not wish to invoke the ancient ones, just call on a mere fraction of their power to intimidate Doppelgänger enough to lower his guard.”

Akasha clenched her hands around her cup, biting her lower lip.

“Heinwald,” she cooed, her tone more mature, “It is quite noble of you to maintain such ethics when researching something many would deem heretical. I’m amazed at how gracefully you dance on the blade thin edge between heresy and piety.”

“I pride myself on being a pious man, Akasha,” Heinwald explained, “Besides, is it not the duty of a mage to prove their piety? Why, centuries ago, magecraft itself was considered a taboo, and mages heretics. Magic is all about towing that fine line, being extra careful not to push into the realm of heresy too much.”

“You merely stick your toe into the pond instead of diving in head first. You search for riches in the tidepools, where there could very well be a sunken trove in the depths.”

“There is a limit to how far I am willing to go to pursue knowledge. If it means obtaining the truth, I will gladly brave the unknown. However, I will not let myself be distracted and walk down the path of heresy to do so.”

“Heresy…” Akasha chuckled, “What truly is heresy? The word is flung around so often I fear it has lost all meaning. Those in power use ‘heresy’ to describe that which they do not agree with, that which they fear will overpower them. There is so much to gain, so much power, yet we are limited to our research lest we be branded heretics.”

“Your words have some merit, Akasha,” Heinwald confessed, “Though it pains me to say it, the Church can label anyone they consider an enemy as a heretic, effectively removing them from society and forcing them into a life on the run. But I will not despair at the reality of this corruption. No, I plan to destroy it, to rebrand heresy as what it truly is. I will bring the truth to light.”

“Oh? And how would you define heresy?”

“Anything that sacrifices one morals, faith, and soul for gain. Indulgences, corruption, lust for power, war crimes; those are true acts of heresy. One cannot consider something heresy if it is something beyond one’s control; mental or physical disabilities, the color of one’s skin, the land they hail from, their attraction to someone of the same sex… None of these should be considered heretical. People are not born as heretics, they are made ones when they let greed overcome their morals, when they become corrupt, hollow shells of their former selves.”

“Corrupt? Hollow?”

A twisted smile spread across Akasha’s face as she burst into maniacal laughter. Heinwald suddenly tensed up. He felt paralyzed, completely frozen and unable to move a muscle. Did she put a sedative in his tea?

“Yes,” she cackled, “I am corrupt. I am hollow. I am nothing more than a husk, a vessel for Lord Hastur.”

“Hastur?” Heinwald choked, “You’re not a graduate student from Caldia at all, are you… You… you’re a…”

Wind mana swirled around Akasha, her form changing drastically. Her brown hair turned blood red, white streaking the small spikes at her scalp to resemble horns. Her skin dyed pink and her eyes turned into golden slits, like the eyes of a serpent. Even her garments changed, the loose, violet dress melting away to reveal a scanty, priestess robe.

“Ah, it feels so much better to be my true self,” she cooed, “My old form was so dismal… yet now, I can show you who I really am.”

“Akasha…” Heinwald spat, “What did you do to me? What are you planning to do?”

“Oh Heinwald, if only you knew who you really were. I knew it the moment I set eyes on you. You are his flesh and blood! You are the one who will bring about his revival, and I intend to awaken his being, lying dormant within you.”

“Him… You don’t mean…”

“Azathoth… His blood runs through your veins. You say one cannot be born a heretic, yet here you stand as a walking contradiction. One who bears the blood of the Ancient One, one who was destined for heresy from the moment he was conceived.”

Heinwald’s throat went dry. His life flashed before his eyes, memories that he had repressed into the farthest reaches of his mind playing over and over in succession. The Cardinal telling him of his “Abyssal Connection,” his affinity for shadow magic despite pursuing healing arts, that time in the woods when he began chanting an unknown language, summoning unspeakable horrors to slaughter a pack of wolves.

“I…” he stammered, “I am no heretic… I am not… I am not his vessel… I refuse…”

Heinwald screamed in horror as the gruesome image of the slaughtered wolves flashed across his mind’s eye once more. The image contorted, and the wolves bodies turned into human bodies, with Curran looking on in fear of being slaughtered as well.

_ “Monster…” _the Curran in his mind yelped, _“You… you killed everyone… Do you plan to do the same to me?”_

“Curran no!” Heinwald shouted out loud, his fists balling into his hair and tugging out strands in stress, “I… I am not Azathoth… I… I won’t…”

“Do not deny your nature any longer,” Akasha chuckled, “Give yourself unto him, and you will do great things.”

Heinwald’s vision went black as he faded out of consciousness, collapsing from his chair onto the floor. His drink spilled across _The Necronomicon_, staining its pages and making the ink bleed. Akasha chuckled victoriously to herself, crouching down to pick up Heinwald’s unconscious body.

“Soon O Almighty Azathoth,” she praised, “I will prime your vessel, so that you may walk this Earth once more.”

***

Curran eagerly waited outside of the library, constantly sticking his hand back into his pocket to make sure the ring was still there. Heinwald was still probably inside, hard at work trying to find a spell or recipe for a potion that could help the Cardinal. It was a bit boring just waiting around from him, but Curran figured Heinwald would be out any moment. Various different patrons continued walking out of the library, yet Curran saw hide nor hair of Heinwald, or Akasha for that matter. He promised Heinwald that he would trust him and not get jealous, but now Curran was starting to get worried. He was an hour late.

“E-excuse me!” a young voice panted.

Curran turned to see Akasha’s younger sister, Lathna gasping for breath in front of him. She was pale as a ghost and sweating profusely. It looked like she could collapse at any second.

“Woah, hold on there, Lathna was it?” Curran calmed, “You look a mess. Let’s get you some water.”

“No!” she exclaimed, “I don’t need water… I need… to warn you… I need… to get help!”

Curran’s expression turned grim. Something bad must have happened to her sister.

“Is your sis alright?” Curran asked, “Are you lost?”

“THAT THING ISN’T MY SISTER!” Lathna screamed.

“What?”

“She… she’s a monster… she’s an evil, scary woman who wants to bring the Ancient One back to life…”

“Lathna, did you get into a fight with her?”

“No! I… I’m telling you the truth… She… she killed my parents and performed rituals and experiments on me… she cut me up… awakened a monster in me… she made me call her my sister… If I didn’t… If I didn’t she said she would…”

Tears spilled from Lathna’s eyes as she hugged Curran tight.

“I’m sorry!” she sobbed, “I’m so sorry… I wasn’t brave enough to say anything… And now she’s going to try and do the same… to Heinwald.”

“WHAT?” Curran yelped, “Lathna, please tell me… what is she going to do to Heinwald?”

“She… she’s going to try to resurrect Azathoth… and use him as a vessel…”

“Damn, I knew I couldn’t trust her… Is he ok? Has she started the ritual?”

“She… she can’t do the complete ritual without me… She is the Gate, but I am the Key… She’ll probably come looking for me once she realizes I ran away… But she can still do part of the ritual on her own! We have to help him!”

“Ok, Lathna, where is she keeping him?”

“She brought him to our village… To Teinsom… She intends to do the ritual in our town’s church.”

“Teinsom… That’s to the East right? Lathna, you know the really big mansion in this town by the fountain?”

“Mhm.”

“I want you to go there. Tell the nice lady who lives there that Curran sent you. She’ll keep you safe if Akasha comes looking for you.”

“But… but shouldn’t I show you the way?”

Curran patted her on the head.

“You’ve been through enough,” he cooed, “Thank you for warning me Lathna, but you need to hide there where it’s safe. I’ll go rescue Heinwald.”

“Is Heinwald,” Lathna whimpered, “Is he special to you?”

“More than you can imagine.”

“Please, stop Akasha. I don’t want anyone else to suffer like I had to…”

“Don’t worry Lathna, I will.”

Curran grabbed his new ax and stormed down the stairs to the library. He looked out to the East, to the forest just outside of town. Teinsom lie in wait beyond it. Curran pulled the ring out of his pocket, kissing it for good luck before putting it back away.

“Don’t worry Heinwald,” he growled, “I’m comin’ for ya.”


	19. Chapter 19

Heinwald winced as he stirred awake. The last thing he remembered was passing out in the restricted section, Akasha’s grotesque true form looming over him. As he vision cleared, he noticed immediately that he had been taken somewhere while he was unconscious. He found himself in a dark room filled with reagents, spell books, severed human body parts, and ritual weapons. The obsidian blade of a Carbuncle glinted beside him, but as he tried to reach for it, his hand was yanked back. He looked down at his wrist, noticing chain bindings attaching him to the stone wall behind him.

“I hope the journey here wasn’t too rough on you,” a honeyed voice cooed, its tone sickly sweet in Heinwald’s ears, “Are you comfortable?”

Heinwald glared daggers at the owner of the voice.

“Akasha…” he hissed, “What is the meaning of this? Where are we? Unbind me at once and let me go!”

“You are in the village of Teinsom,” she answered, “The place of your rebirth, Lord Azathoth.”

Heinwald struggled against the chains binding him, yet they seemed to only tighten the more he tried to escape.

“I’m afraid your attempts are futile,” she chuckled, “But why do you struggle? Soon you will awaken to your true potential as the vessel of the almighty Ancient One.”

“I am a man of Ilia…” Heinwald spat, “I will not let you get away with this, Akasha…”

Her laughter turned maniacal as she approached him. He cringed as he felt her cold hand against his cheek. She felt like a corpse, a hollow vessel contorted by her ideals, her blind devotion to the Ancient One. He soon felt her lips collide with his, her tongue forcing its way into his mouth. It was forceful, wicked, base. This wasn’t like the kisses he had lovingly shared with Curran, this was Akasha asserting her dominance over him. He bit down against her lip, attempting to force her back, yet even as the iron taste of blood filled his mouth, she persisted.

“Oh Ancient One,” she moaned, “This body will soon be yours.”

“Stop…” Heinwald cringed, “You vile woman…”

Akasha finally pulled away, licking the blood and saliva from her lips. A smile twisted across her face as she took the Carbuncle in hand, slicing open Heinwald’s clothing to reveal his bare skin.

“Don’t touch me!” Heinwald wretched.

Akasha ignored his pleas, stripping off his layers of clothing and running her ice cold hands over his fair skin. He shivered in disgust at her touch. It wasn’t a touch of lust or passion, nor was it a friendly touch of intimacy. She was eyeing him like an object, a mere shell that would soon become the vessel for her deity. Heinwald hated this, yet he could only wait in fear. He was bound, helpless. His cries, his spells, his protests would reach no one. Trusting Akasha was his gravest mistake.

***

Curran rushed through the forest with ax in hand, desperately searching for Teinsom. He didn’t have the luxury of time. With each passing second, Akasha could be torturing Heinwald, performing cruel, heretical rituals on him. He continued east, running as fast as his legs could carry him through the dense woods. Suddenly, he spotted cottages, shops, smithies. It certainly wasn’t a grand city, but this town could very well be Teinsom, the village where Akasha had taken Heinwald. Curran immediately ran up to one of the cottages, knocking on the door in desperation. An elderly woman answered it, slightly taken aback at the large, strange man at her doorstep.

“This village,” Curran panted, “Is this Teinsom?”

“Oh? Are you not a native to our fine town?” she smiled.

Her smile suddenly contorted, revealing a mouthful of sharp teeth. Her eyes rolled back in her head and her skin seemed to melt off of her body, making way for feathers and scales. Tentacles sprouted from her back, and her jaw unhinged, a long, bloody tongue falling out of her gaping maw.

“T̴̖̘͎̩̱͈͓͚͙͇͓̓͊͋͑̾̉͂̅͆̌̊͛̑͘͝h̵̛̒̾̄̋̈́̾̄͐̽̾̇̚͜͝ȩ̷͍̠͍̿̈́̕ͅņ̵̩̘̱́̌͘ ̶̣̝̯̼̩̣̇͋͘͠b̵̦̘̖͍̫͙̻͍͚̪̈̋͂̔͛ë̶̝̜͓́̍̈́̂͆͑̓̈g̵͇͇͍̮̞̈́̂̃ǫ̶̛̰͉̘̟̿̅̈́́̽̀̕͝n̷̫͇͎̬̰̼̥̙̪̍̋̈́̎̾è̸̠̰̘̦̎̔̌̌́͝” she hissed.

Curran readied his ax as what was once an old lady lunged at him, sharp claws and pointed fangs bared to rend his flesh from his bone. He swerved to the side, attempting to dodge her blow, but one of her tentacles grazed him, eating through the fabric of his clothes and singeing his skin like acid.

“FUCK!” Curran cursed, gritting his teeth through the pain.

He swung his ax at his assailant, cleaving her head off. Not a drop of blood spilt from the wound; instead, a miasma of black mana poured out, dissipating into the air around him as the body faded away into nothingness.

“Shit…” Curran yelped, “If this is what the villagers are like, I can’t imagine what Akasha is tryin’ to do to Hein… At least I know I’m in the right place.”

Curran headed further into the village, trying to blend in as best as he could to not incite the wrath of more of the “villagers.” In a place like this, he couldn’t exactly ask for directions. It was clear that this town was filled with monsters, cultists, and fiends; people who had sold their souls to the Ancient One, whether they wanted to or not. A chill went up his spine. Curran knew he was being watched. He turned his head to see a young boy. The boy yelped as soon as he was spotted, running into an alleyway.

“Hey, where ya going?” Curran shouted after him.

He followed after the boy, cornering him at a dead end. Tears flowed from the boy’s eyes, and he was covered in cuts and bruises. Curran crouched down, trying to comfort him.

“You lost?” he asked.

“Please don’t eat me!” the boy cried, “I don’t want to die!”

“It’s ok boy, I’m human too, see?”

Curran showed him the gash that he earned from the monster who attacked him. It still bled into his clothes, and the boy winced in fear.

“The monsters here can’t bleed,” Curran said, “Sorry if I scared ya, but it was the only thing I could think of to prove that I’m human. Now how’d you end up in a place like this?”

The boy wiped his eyes, “My dad and I were out hunting… One of those… those things attacked us. I… I tried to run away, but I got lost… Now I’m stuck here with a bunch of these monsters… I… I don’t know where my dad went… Maybe he’s… maybe the monsters…”

“It’s ok kid,” Curran assured, ruffling his hair, “I’m sure your dad is fine, but how about you stick with me for the mean time. Don’t want you gettin’ hurt or nothin’…”

“M… mkay,” the boy replied.

“Much as I’d like to get your out of the village, I’m afraid my partner is in trouble here too. But don’t worry, just stay close to me and once I rescue him, we can go find your pops.”

“Partner… Was he a tall, skinny guy with black and white hair and glasses?”

“Yup, that’s him.”

“I saw him! I saw a strange lady with pink skin taking him into the church!”

“Really? When did you see him?”

“About an hour ago. I haven’t seen either of them leave the church yet though…”

Curran clenched his ax in his fist.

“Boy,” he said, “Mind showin’ me where the Church is? The faster we can find my partner, the faster we can get out of here.”

“Ok,” the boy replied, “Follow me!”

The boy grabbed onto Curran’s hand. Surprisingly, it was cold and dry. Curran expected it would be warm and sweaty from running away, but fear had probably chilled the boy to the core. They carefully avoided the gazes of other villagers, running through back alleyways to prevent conflict. Curran was confident in his fighting ability, but he didn’t want to wear himself out if he didn’t need to. Eventually, a dark church came into view. Its windows were tinted black unlike the stained glass ones of the Ilian church and the architecture was chilling and foreboding.

“This is it,” the boy swallowed hard, hiding behind Curran.

“Stay behind me kid,” Curran instructed, “Much as I don’t want to put you in danger, I feel like leavin’ you out here by yourself wouldn’t be much better.”

The kid nodded his head, sticking close behind him. Slowly, Curran approached the church, opening up the door to the steeple. The sight inside was enough to make even a battle-hardened bounty hunter like him wretch. The pews were filled with villagers chanting in R’yleh as a man hung upside down above the altar. His throat was sliced open and blood poured from his neck into a baptismal font. The boy behind him began to laugh, and a chill went up Curran’s spine as he heard the door lock behind him.

“Ḣ̵̤͔̿̌̐͝͠u̴̳͔̦̦͕͓̻̟̦̘̇̈́̒̓̂͆̅͒͆̾̓͒́̈́̽m̸̢̐̋̌̈́̓̃́̐̽̽͐̕͠ä̷̧̠͉̭̺̞̬̤̤̱́̚͜ͅn̴̛̠̦͊̃̌̂̽̈́̆̂̀̒s̷̨̰̮̗̙̘̩̫͎̥̀̈́̋̍̏̓̈́̒̓́͑̉͜͜͝͝͝ ̶̛̲̟̰̺̩͖̹̤̺͍͒̉͑̈́̅̑͌͋͘͜͝a̷̙͙͍͉̰͎̭̖̩͓͒̾ͅr̸͓̗̣͊͂̔̋͌͊̂̓͒̽e̶͓̞͕̣̒͜ ̶̢̛͓̘̥̰͈͗͗̌̆͆͆̈́̇́̈́́ş̴̛̠͔̺̟̱͔̬̦͉̪̯̻̀̈́̌͐͆̊̚͘o̶͇̽ͅ ̶͔͙͓̩̰̹͔̥͇̲̲́p̶̳̣̫͉͙͈̰̘͔̻̤͗̓̈́͒͌͠ṛ̴̢̨͚̘͗͗̄̆ȅ̵͍̤̪̹̪̺̤̼̯̗̲̈́́̏̔͗̄̀͊͐̾̕d̵̨̻̑̆̋̈́̑͆̆͆̂ǐ̵̢͕̠̦̊̈́̓͋̋͌̐͊͝c̸̛̟̤̗͋̒͗͐͒̋͛͐͝t̶̼̯͎͔͙͛̍ą̷͉͍͎̉̿̽̈̂̃͗̏̕̚͝t̴̠̭̟̒̓̽̐͐̓͜a̸̛̖̖͇͖͆́̐̎b̷̨̭̱̭̳̩̺͚̩͆͋̃͂̋̌̈́̅͛̆́̀̓̚ļ̶̦̫̒̂̃̿͛́̚e̸̡͉̮̪̖̜͈̬̝̳̻͕̩̟̳̍̈̅͌͂̓̔̂.̶̨̛̗̱̘̬̮̙̺̹̝̋̃̀͂̆͑̾̆͂͘̚͜.̶̧̹̬̫̳̤͖̕͜͝ͅ.̴̛̛̛̱͎̜͎̈́́͗̑͗͑̓̉̃̒͜͝͠”” the boy hissed.

Curran turned around to see the boy’s head split in half, a tentacled, feathered monster like the elderly woman before emerging from his corpse. The other villagers within turned their heads, twisted smiles stretching across their faces as they too transformed into hideously deformed creatures.

“Azathoth,” they chanted, “Ď̷̛̹̣̰̣̜̞̝̄̔̽̑̑͊̌̿͌͑̐e̶̛͍̱̣̾͜p̴͖̮͇̦̆́e̶̢͆̈̂̃̉͑͐͒͐̂͑̒̚ņ̶̨̖̙̅͑́̇̀̑̆̽̉̇̃͗g̶̦̬̻̺̹̭͛̌͜͝ͅą̶̭̖̟͓̳̺̝͍̪̬̥̹̹̰̈ ̴̨̡̛̰̥̣̪͔͒́̆͗̉́͒̌̕͝ͅb̵̙̦̱͕͍͎̈́͗̀̌̏͆̽͐̐̍̾̀̔̒͝ͅỳ̸̗͔̫̲̤͕͚͕͇͈̈́f̸̰̞̲̱͕̫̖͕̙̯͈͇̂̆̉̐͜͜ͅę̴̘͈̬͖͗͌͋̓̀́̚ṫ̵̨̢̤̘͇̳̭̫̣̗͉͈͍̥̭͂̆̓̿ḩ̷̢̘̬͍̟͈̰̹̗̺͉̆̏̐̚ ̵̡̗̺͚̠̆̅̊͐̊̒̂̄̔̇̽̄̎̍̕c̵̞̺̣̤̜͕̦̖͖͉̝̗͕̬̥̄̚ḧ̷̡̲͖̹̜͓̗̩͛̏̅̅̓͐͒̈͂̔̅͠͝ŏ̷̜͇͔̜͉̗͚͎̺͍́̏̇̆̈́̄̌̍̃̕ ̴̢̛͓̯̭̫̹̼̮̼̦̹͉̪̅̾̈́̒̆̉̇͂̈́͠ͅr̸̨̻̹͔͎͈̫̗̰̜͖̬̈̍̐̄̃̑̒̊̈́̓͝è̸̝̪̻̒̀̑̈͐̋͠m̶̧͈̬̮̦͖̹̥̜̫̹̦̀͜͠ă̴̧̠̪͙͔̩̼̻̎͐̐̇͐́̒̑̾͒̾͝ṋ̷̨̱̰̭̭͋̈́̃̈́͊̎͊̓͑͆̉͒̿͝ ̴͎̪̬̥̪͇̖͈͉̩̋̃͐̏̌̓͂̔͒̒̀̈́̚͝ǔ̴̩̗͉̩̭̣͈̙̮̙͌̓̐̎͒́̑̽̈́̕r̶̨͙̣͎̣̓̾̾̒͝g̸̘̗̜̯͉̘͔̠̺̈́̉͊̌̅̀̌̀̎̀͠a̵̧̡̙̰͇͍͈̺͙̱̝̤̦̲̋̓̈́́̇͊̃̈́ṛ̶̢̮͖͚͉̭̼͈̬͚̲̈́̒͋̾͠ț̴̡̨̜̤͇̭͍̘̹̲̞̫̣̂́̈́̄̔̔̅̊͊̇̆̚͘h̷̻̰̺̹̭̜͓͋͗”

“Shit, it was a trap,” Curran grunted, “No matter… You fuckers are in my way… If you want me, COME AT ME!”

Curran brandished his ax, fighting off the onslaught of monsters. Their claws tore at his skin, their venom stung his flesh, but the pain didn’t matter. He wasn’t going to let Akasha turn Heinwald into one of these freaks, or worse. With each creature he cut down, the black mana in the room grew thicker. Curran began to choke on the dark, smoke-like substance, his eyes blurring and watering with each breath he took in.

“I ain’t dyin’ here,” he coughed, “I have to save him…”

Curran remembered the ring was still in his pocket. The adrenaline, the desire to give it to Heinwald and make him his forever gave him a second wind. He cleaved his ax through a line of the creatures, making them shriek as they faded away.

“I AIN’T LEAVIN’ HERE WITHOUT HIM!” Curran shouted.

***

Heinwald shrieked in pain as Akasha carved into his skin with the Carbuncle, slicing into his face, his chest, his leg. The skin around the cuts turned a sickly purplish-gray and grew rough to the touch, almost like the scales of a dragon.

“Bear with the pain,” she cooed, “Do not struggle. It will all be worth it for His awakening.”

“Stop this…” Heinwald hissed, “It hurts… It hurts! Stop!”

Akasha laughed at his pleas, continuing her cruel ritual.

“Feth qichi…” she chanted, “Oh lord of the Abyss. Oh father of Nyarlathotep. Oh almighty Ancient One. Thy children reach out to you. I, Hastur, the King in Yellow, offer onto you this, the flesh of your beloved descendant. Take his body as your own, and awaken once more. Depenga byfeth cho reman urgarth depenga byfeth cho reman urgarth…”

Heinwald shrieked as Akasha chanted. It felt like a thousand ton weight had been heaved onto his chest. He was suffocating, drowning as his blood boiled within his body.

“No…” Heinwald cried, “Stop…”

“DEPENGA BYFETH CHO REMAN URGARTH,” Akasha shouted, “DEPENGA BYFETH CHO REMAN URGARTH! AZATHOTH! THY GATE IS PRIMED! I SHALL FETCH THE KEY WHO WILL BRING ABOUT YOUR AWAKENING.”

“I’m afraid that’s not gonna happen,” a man’s voice said from the doorway to the ritual room, “Your key isn’t here right now.”

Akasha turned around to see Curran in the doorway, battered and exhausted, but still alive. His brow furrowed as his gaze shifted from her to Heinwald. He was stripped naked, and half of his skin had been discolored. His eyes were glazed over in agony as the cuts from the Carbuncle festered across his body.

“Lathna…” Akasha growled, “How dare she betray me… That foolish girl…”

“Curran…” Heinwald choked, “Curran, is that you?”

“I’m here, Heinwald,” Curran assured, “We’re gonna get you out of here.”

“I’m afraid I cannot allow you to do that,” Akasha hissed, “Besides, you are too late. Even without the key, I have awakened the Abyssal blood that formerly lay dormant within him. He is no longer human.”

“Do you think I care about that?” Curran growled, “I love him, and I’m not gonna let you sacrifice him to your damn Ancient One.”

Akasha cackled, ignoring Curran’s threat.

“You _love_ him you say?” Akasha sneered, “What a folly! I will truly relish in having him kill you.”

Akasha plunged the Carbuncle into Heinwald’s chest, making him cry out in pain. Yet, he didn’t die. Instead, black mana swirled around him, his crimson eyes burning with killing intent. He yanked the chains that bound him, pulling them from the stone wall as if it was made of paper. The Carbuncle fell out of his chest, his gashes sealing over with black mana, stitching him back together.

“Yes Heinwald,” she cooed, “Kill. Kill and satisfy your craving for blood.”

“Kill…” Heinwald grunted, “Blood… flesh… sacrifice… abyss… insanity…”

“Hein…” Curran gulped, holding out his hand, “Babe, it’s me. It’s Curran… Please…”

Heinwald flung his chains at Curran like a flail, forcing Curran out of the way. He had gone completely berserk, corrupted by madness from Akasha’s ritual.

“Heinwald…” Curran begged, “Please stop this. Please remember me.”

“I am His emissary,” Heinwald chanted, “I am the Father of All, the Lord of the Abyss… I will… have my sacrifice…”

“Yes Lord Azathoth!” Akasha cheered, “Take your sacrifice, then we shall find the key to complete your awakening! Now kill him! Destroy that interloper who would dare desecrate our sacred rite.”

“I will…” Heinwald snarled, “HAVE MY SACRIFICE!”

Curran closed his eyes, bracing for the impact of Heinwald’s chains, yet instead he heard Akasha yelp in shock. He opened his eyes, seeing Heinwald’s hands clenched around her throat, tightening in a vice grip. Her face began to grow blue and her mouth foamed.

“W-why…” she hacked, “I… am your loyal priestess… Why… Lord Azathoth…?”

“I am not Azathoth…” Heinwald growled, “I am Heinwald. You may have awakened my blood, but you will not shake my will… I will use the power of the Abyss for good. You and your foul deities will die in the darkness!”

A laugh leaked from Akasha’s mouth, “So… I failed…? No… I have succeeded… There is no way… A mere mortal like you… will be able to live a normal life with Abyssal blood… You will awaken… one day…”

Curran heard a sharp snap and Akasha’s body went limp in Heinwald’s hands. He loosened his grip, making her body fall to the floor. His eyes no longer glowed with bloodlust, the light of sanity returning to him. Once he came to, he fell back in horror at the sight of Akasha’s lifeless body.

“Curran…” he whimpered, “Did I do this? Did I… Did I kill her?”

“Heinwald,” Curran said calmly, kneeling down to approach him.

“NO! DON’T COME ANY CLOSER!” Heinwald warned, “I… I killed her… I… I let her corrupt me… I’m a monster… a heretic…”

“Heinwald, let’s get out of here.”

“No! Leave me here… Let me die… Kill me… I… I’ve passed the point of redemption… Just look at me!”

Heinwald curled up, tugging at his hair and crying into his knees.

“I’m not even human anymore… I’m… I’m an Abyssal… a foul creature that can never be forgiven by Ilia…”

Curran pulled Heinwald in close, hugging him tight. He was shivering, broken and confused after the trauma he had just endured.

“I don’t care if you’re human or not,” Curran assured, “So what? You’ve got some gray patches of skin now. That doesn’t make you a monster. You’re still the same Heinwald on the inside. You’re still the man I love.”

“Curran…” Heinwald sighed, “I… I have His authority… Azathoth… When Akasha awakened my blood, I learned the truth about myself. My magic, my bloodline… it’s all because of Azathoth… He’s… he’s my ancestor.”

“That doesn’t matter to me. Yeah you’re his descendant, but you _aren’t _Azathoth. You’re your own person Heinwald.”

“I don’t want to lose myself. I don’t want my Abyssal blood to make me go insane.”

“You won’t… I know you won’t. You’re a strong man Heinwald, and I’ll make sure to keep you grounded no matter what.”

Curran reached into his pocket, pulling out the box with the ring inside. Heinwald’s jaw dropped.

“Curran,” he gasped, “Is that a…”

Curran opened up the box, revealing the beautiful wedding ring inside.

“Yeah,” Curran replied, “Was kinda hopin’ to pop the question in a more romantic way, but I felt this was the best way for me to show you how much I care about you. Heinwald, marry me. I promise I’ll keep you safe. I don’t care about your Abyssal blood. I just want to spend the rest of our lives together; to make you as happy as you make me.”

“Curran…” Heinwald cried, “Yes!”

Heinwald pulled Curran into a passionate kiss. Even covered in wounds, Curran felt no pain, only joy that Heinwald had so eagerly accepted his proposal.

“I love you Curran,” Heinwald panted between kisses, “I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Heinwald,” Curran growled, “Now, let’s get out of here. Let’s go home.”

Curran pulled away from the kiss, stripping off his shirt and handing it to Heinwald.

“Looks like she destroyed your clothes,” he sighed, “And I doubt you’d wanna walk home in the nude.”

“Curran,” Heinwald blushed, “You’re wounded. Will you be ok to travel?”

“It’s just a few scratches. I’m more worried about you.”

“I’m fine now… Oddly enough, I feel stronger: like my magic has gotten more powerful since my blood has awakened. Let me heal your wounds for you.”

Heinwald looked around the room, grabbing Akasha’s staff. Though it was ideally meant for wind magic, he was certain that it would still suffice for closing up Curran’s wounds. He muttered an incantation as he waved the staff over Curran’s gashes, the torn skin regrowing and the festering puss receding.

“Wow,” Curran said, “I’m good as new.”

“I’m glad…” Heinwald sighed, “At least something positive came out of this whole incident… I suppose Abyssal blood can be good for something…”

Suddenly Heinwald’s eyes lit up. Though Akasha had used him and attempted to sacrifice him, it was thanks to her research, he had finally figured it out; a way to exorcise the Cardinal.

“Wait a minute…” he beamed, “That’s it! My blood!”

“What about your blood?” Curran wondered.

“You recall the authority of the Abyssals that I told you about? I have the blood of Azathoth, the God at the top of the Abyssal pantheon.”

“Yeah?”

“He has authority over all the other Abyssal deities. Though my initial plan was to mimic his authority, now I actually have it. I can use my blood to exorcise him.”

“Use your blood?”

“Yes. If the Cardinal ingests some of my blood, Doppelgänger will be forced out. Then I’ll be able to use my magic to banish him to the Abyss.”

“Heh, you really are somethin’ Hein. Still, I think it would be best to at least recuperate for a few days. You’ve been through a lot today.”

“I… I understand.”

Heinwald slipped into Curran’s shirt. Given how much broader his chest and shoulders were, it almost fell along Heinwald’s frame like a gown. Still it was rather short, and Heinwald feared that if he bent over that he would accidentally flash civilians. He yelped as he felt Curran’s arm wrap around him, offering some support as he guided him out of the Church.

“Forgot one more thing,” Curran snapped his fingers.

He took out the box once more, pulling the ring out and sliding it onto Heinwald’s left ring finger. Heinwald smiled as he gazed at the beautiful ring enrobing his digit.

“It’s lovely,” he smiled.

Curran kissed him on the forehead, “I knew it would look good on you. Now let’s get back to Napoli. I’m sure Dominica is worried sick about you.”

“You’re probably right about that,” Heinwald chuckled, “Let’s go home, Curran.”


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oops I didn't mean to take a one month hiatus... I'll try to have the next chapter out faster!

Dominica threw her arms around the beaten and bruised pair, tears of relief spilling from her eyes as she welcomed them home.

“I was so worried,” she sobbed, “Thank goodness you boys are well… Bambino, what happened to your clothes?”

“I’m afraid they were ripped to shreads…” Heinwald sighed, “Thank goodness Curran was willing to let me borrow his shirt.”

Lathna peaked out from behind Dominica, now dressed up in a black gown with a matching beret. It was clear that Dominica had quickly taken a liking to her. Her gaze turned downward in guilt at the stitches, scars, and discolored skin that now riddled Heinwald’s body.

“Akasha…” she whispered, “Is she gone?”

“Yeah,” Curran assured, “You don’t have to worry about her hurting you ever again.”

Sheepishly, Lathna approached Heinwald, grabbing onto his gray hand. The skin was as rough as sandpaper and his fingernails had turned black like a corpse.

“I’m sorry,” she apologized, “I’m sorry I wasn’t brave enough to warn you sooner… Because of me…. Now you… your body…”

Heinwald knelt down to be at eye level with Lathna, carefully adjusting the shirt Curran had let him wear to avoid indecency. He smiled tenderly and sighed.

“It’s not your fault, Lathna,” Heinwald assured, “I’m grateful that you warned Curran in time. If it weren’t for you, Akasha would have surely gotten away with her nefarious plot. I owe my life to you as much as I do to him.”

Lathna balled her hands into fists and bit her lower lip before throwing her arms around him, hugging him tightly. Heinwald stroked her back, assuaging her of her lingering guilt. With Akasha gone, Lathna was finally free. Unfortunately, the tender moment was cut short as Heinwald’s stomach grumbled loudly, breaking the silence in the room. Heinwald blushed deeply as Lathna, Curran, and Dominica burst out laughing.

“Sounds like you’re hungry bambino,” Dominica chuckled.

“Zia…” Heinwald grumbled.

“I’m just teasing you dear,” she replied, “You go throw on a robe. I’ll bring you one of Toni’s old outfits and then we can have dinner.”

Heinwald recalled Antonio having a larger frame than him, and as Heinwald’s body type hadn’t changed much since his teenage years, he worried that he would drown in whatever outfit Dominica picked out for him. Still, in comparison to Curran’s shirt, Antonio’s clothing wouldn’t be as comically large on him.

“Miss Dominica,” Lathna squeaked, “D-do you need me to help you make dinner?”

“Oh bambina, you don’t need to worry about that,” Dominica smiled, “Do you like card games? I have a fun one I can teach you after I bring down the change of clothes.”

“S-sure,” Lathna replied, “Thank you.”

Dominica turned back to Heinwald and took Lathna’s hand.

“I’ll have the chefs start on dinner soon,” she said, “It should be ready in about an hour, but I’ll bring down a change of clothes for you as soon as possible. Curran, would you care for a change of clothing as well?”

“I should be fine,” Curran responded, “Once I get my shirt back from Hein that is.”

“If you insist,” Dominica smiled, “I’ll leave you boys be for now.”

Dominica guided Lathna back up the stairs, leaving Heinwald and Curran alone in the foyer. Curran nodded to Heinwald kindly, gripping onto his hand and guiding him back to their guest room. Once the door closed behind them, Curran pulled Heinwald into a tight hug, much to Heinwald’s surprise. His body relaxed as Curran’s fingers ran through his hair and a lithe exhale escaped from his lips.

“Curran?” he wondered.

“Shush,” Curran whispered, “Just let me hold you close for now. I was so scared I was going to lose you back there, so please let me have this moment.”

“I wasn’t complaining,” Heinwald giggled, “Just… pleasantly surprised.”

Curran buried his head into the crook of Heinwald’s neck, nuzzling against his now rough, gray skin. Heinwald closed his eyes, feeling Curran’s deep breaths, the soft rise and fall of his chest against his own. His hand wandered from Curran’s back to his chest, settling over his taut pectorals. Heinwald could practically feel Curran’s heartbeat pounding under the firm muscles of his chest. He half expected Curran’s hands to wander as well; to lift up his shirt and grope at his ass, yet Curran remained still, simply savoring Heinwald’s presence alone.

A knock at the door pulled the pair back to reality. Reluctantly, Curran let Heinwald go so he could answer the door. Heinwald opened it to see Dominica standing in the hallway with a folded set of clothing in hand.

“Here you are bambino,” Dominica said, handing him the clothes, “It might be a bit large, but they should fit well enough. Once you’re ready, maybe you could join Lathna and I for buso.”

“Thank you zia,” Heinwald replied.

“That is, unless you wanted a bit more privacy,” she winked.

“ZIA!” Heinwald exclaimed, blush painting his cheeks.

Dominica chuckled. As her gaze shifted down to the pile of clothes in Heinwald’s hands, her jaw dropped. She spotted something shiny glinting around Heinwald’s left ring finger.

“Bambino,” she gasped, “What’s that on your hand?”

Heinwald looked down, blushing deeper as he remembered that he still had the ring Curran had given him enrobing his finger.

“This?” he asked, showing her the ring, “Well… I suppose the answer is rather obvious…”

“Are you two engaged?” she probed eagerly.

Heinwald looked to Curran for assurance, as if asking permission to tell her of their engagement through eye contact alone. He rested his hand on Heinwald’s shoulder and smirked.

“You can go ahead and tell her,” he chuckled.

Heinwald nodded and turned back to Dominica, “Yes. Curran proposed to me and I said yes.”

Dominica beamed with joy, kissing the two happily on the cheeks.

“Oh bambino! I’m so happy for you!” she gushed, “When’s the wedding? How did he propose? Are you planning on staying here in Napoli? Can I-“

“Slow down there zia,” Heinwald choked, “Curran and I have other problems that must be solved before anything else. Would you mind if I tell you more at dinner?”

“Of course. I take it you’re passing on buso as well then?”

“Probably so. We’ll take a rain check though.”

“I understand. I’ll let you know when dinner is ready. You two lovebirds have your fun.”

Before Heinwald could retort, Dominica had already closed the door behind her. Heinwald shook his head and set the new clothes down on the bed.

“I bet you probably want your shirt back,” Heinwald chuckled.

“As cute as it looks on you, that would be appreciated,” Curran laughed.

Heinwald set the change of clothes down on the dresser before peeling off Curran’s shirt. As Heinwald pulled the loose fabric over his head, Curran remained transfixed on Heinwald’s body, heat rising to his cheeks as each part of his body was exposed. His prominent hips, his pencil thin waist, his rib bones which protruded from the sides of his chest, his pert nipples, one a soft pink and the other now violet as a result of his skin changing colors. Even with the new changes to Heinwald’s body; his scars, his discolored skin, his stitches; Curran was completely entranced by his natural allure. Heinwald folded up the shirt and passed it to Curran. Before Heinwald could begin dressing in the fresh set of clothes, Curran’s voice stopped him.

“Wait,” Curran called out.

“What is it?” Heinwald wondered.

Curran averted his eyes, a flustered blush starting to form across his cheeks and his half-hard member beginning to tent in his pants.

“Damn, I was tryin’ to be a bit more respectful too…” Curran grunted, “But you’re just so damn sexy, it’s not fair.”

Heinwald looked down to see Curran’s cock bulging against the fabric of his pants, feeling heat pool in his own groin.

“Curran,” Heinwald flushed, “You don’t have to hold yourself back you know…”

“Fuck…” Curran growled.

Heinwald’s palm cupped his erection, stroking it through his now too tight pants. He felt his warm breath against his lips and swallowed in anticipation. For once, Heinwald was taking the initiative, and Curran could definitely get used to this.

“You’re so hard Curran…” Heinwald gulped, “Am I truly that attractive?”

“I can’t get enough of your body,” Curran panted, “You’re so cute. I can’t help but get hard when you strip.”

“You flatter me Curran. Well then… would you like me to help you out with this?”

“Babe, are you sure? I don’t want to force anything on you.”

Heinwald cut Curran off with his lips, sloppily kissing him. Curran returned the kiss, taking control as he slid his tongue past Heinwald’s lips. Heinwald whimpered, pressing his body against Curran’s and grinding his nude erection against Curran’s clothed one. He breathlessly pulled away, hovering an inch away from Curran’s tantalizing lips.

“You’ve got me addicted to this, Curran,” Heinwald panted, “Your touch, your kisses… I want it all. I want more.”

“Well, who am I to deny it from you?” Curran snickered, “But we’ll have to make it quick.”

Heinwald yelped as he felt the sharp slap of Curran’s hand against his ass, a red handprint forming from the impact.

“Get the lube,” Curran barked.

Heinwald scurried over to the nightstand, picking up the bottle of lube. He heard the clinking of a belt buckle and the shuffle of clothes as Curran discarded his pants, walking up behind him to snatch the lube from Heinwald’s hands. Curran laid down on the bed, patting his lap to beckon Heinwald to him.

“Come here,” he growled.

Heinwald crawled on top of Curran’s lap, feeling his hot, throbbing cock rubbing against the curve of his ass. Curran coated his fingers in lube, spreading Heinwald’s cheeks apart and probing into his tight hole. Heinwald shivered as the first digit pressed inside, mewling at the slight stretch of his rim. As his body began to lean forward, Curran pushed him back, smirking mischievously.

“No, no, no,” Curran grinned, “Sit up straight. I like this view of you.”

“Curran,” Heinwald whimpered as a second finger pressed inside of him, “This position… I…”

“I want you to ride me babe,” Curran cooed, “I want to watch your sweet, slutty asshole swallow me up as you bounce up and down on my cock.”

“I’ve never done this position.”

“Don’t worry. I’m sure you’ll love it.”

Heinwald exhaled deeply, putting his faith in Curran. Curran spread his fingers inside of Heinwald’s body, stroking his warm, soft walls. He pressed hard against Heinwald’s prostate, making Heinwald squirm and moan on top of him. Curran loved seeing Heinwald like this. His shallow breaths, his cute expressions, his loud moans; Curran absolutely relished in his lover’s pleasure.

“Want me to add a third finger or do you think you’ll be ok with the prep I’ve done so far?” he asked.

“I think…” Heinwald choked, “I think I’ll be fine.”

“Good, good.”

Curran coated his hand in lube once again, giving his erection a few quick jerks to coat it in lube. He wanted to be inside of Heinwald as soon as possible, and from the looks of it, Heinwald felt the same. Curran positioned the head of his cock at Heinwald’s entrance and nodded.

“Now just slide down,” Curran instructed, “Put it in yourself.”

Heinwald bit his lip as he lowered himself onto Curran’s cock, whimpering at the stretch as gravity helped ease the swollen tip inside. His own cock twitched, drooling precum as he sunk down, Curran’s member inching deeper and deeper inside of him. Before he knew it, he felt his hips meet flush against Curran’s, his dick firmly sheathed inside of him.

“So fucking sexy,” Curran hissed, “You ok babe?”

“Y-yeah,” Heinwald replied, “I’m fine.”

“Good. Now try moving your hips on your own.”

Heinwald nodded, sliding his hips upward until he felt the tug of Curran’s glans against his rim. He slowly sunk back down, moaning as he tried to find a good angle, a nice rhythm. After a few experimental strokes, Curran’s cock jammed into his prostate at just the right angle, making Heinwald shriek in ecstasy. Curran’s hands settled around Heinwald’s hips, digging crescents into his skin as Heinwald impaled himself on Curran’s dick.

“You look like you’re enjoying yourself,” Curran growled.

“It feels so good…” Heinwald cried, “Curran… Curran your cock is amazing…”

Curran couldn’t hold himself back any longer, thrusting hard and fast, upward into Heinwald’s hole. Heinwald moaned in delight, matching the rhythm of Curran’s thrust with his own hips. His mind went blank. Heinwald desperately needed this. He had been to hell and back, but having Curran here with him to comfort him, to pleasure him, to make him feel needed and loved, it almost made him forget the trauma he had endured along the way. Curran was his, and Heinwald would gladly give his whole self to Curran as well. When they first met, Heinwald would never have believed he would have fallen for Curran, yet here they were, savoring each others’ bodies, indulging in the pleasure they gave each other. The ring wrapped around his finger was a testament to that.

“Heinwald,” Curran grunted, “I don’t think I can last much longer. I’m gonna…”

“Me too,” Heinwald panted, “Let it all out Curran. I… I want you to fill me up.”

With a few more thrusts, Heinwald came, screaming in pleasure as his seed erupted from his member. Curran sat up, hugging him tightly as he spilled over inside of him, sinking his teeth into his collarbone. Heinwald could feel Curran’s dick convulsing within him, his insides staining white as Curran’s cum splattered into his depths. He collapsed on top of Curran, his energy completely spent from riding his cock into orgasm. Heinwald’s breaths were rough and heavy, but Curran could tell he was satisfied.

“I…” Heinwald exhaled, “I liked that… that position…”

Curran chuckled as he kissed Heinwald chastely on the lips, pulling his softening dick out of Heinwald’s stretched hole.

“Good,” he smiled, “I’ll gladly let you ride me whenever you want.”

“I hope you don’t come to regret that,” Heinwald teased.

“As if I would. It’s so hot seeing you take charge.”

Heinwald smiled as he nuzzled against Curran’s broad chest. Curran gently stroked Heinwald’s hair, admiring his lover as the two basked in their afterglow. He was so glad to have met Heinwald, to fall in love again and finally have his feelings reciprocated. Heinwald had torn down his walls, broken the rough, intimidating exterior that he had built up to protect himself from heartbreak. At long last, Curran could be himself again. The Cougar could disappear forever, and Curran could finally return.

“Curran,” Heinwald said, “We should probably get dressed… I wouldn’t want zia walking in on the two of us naked.”

Curran kissed him gently, “Ok babe. But can we cuddle some more after dinner? I like holding you close.”

“I would love that.”

Heinwald rolled off of Curran, shakily standing to walk to the dresser. He could feel Curran’s seed oozing out of his hole, the viscous fluid dripping down his leg and onto the floor. He had gotten used to the sensation, but Heinwald still didn’t want to risk staining his deceased brother in law’s clothing with semen.

“Curran, could you get me a towel?” Heinwald asked.

“Guess we did make a bit of a mess,” Curran chuckled, getting out of bed as well, “Don’t worry. I’ll clean you up.”

Curran walked over to the bathroom, grabbing a towel and taking it over to Heinwald. Before Heinwald could reach out for it, Curran had already dropped to his knees, wiping the semen from his slender legs.

“I can do it myself, you know,” Heinwald pouted.

“And deny me the opportunity to worship your beautiful legs?” Curran retorted.

“We don’t have all day, Curran…”

“Fine, fine. I’ll make it quick.”

Heinwald would be lying to himself if he said he wasn’t enjoying it. The soft fabric of the towel felt nice against his skin, and Curran’s touch was as comforting as ever. He whimpered as he felt lips press into the curve of his ass, Curran chastely kissing the handprint he had left earlier.

“Curran…” he mewled, “Are you trying to get me hard again?”

“Perhaps,” Curran snickered.

“Please just finish up. I don’t want to keep zia waiting.”

Curran conceded, finishing cleaning off the cum dripping out of Heinwald’s ass and allowing him to get dressed. Heinwald unfolded the garments that Dominica had given him, slipping into the pants and shirt. As he expected, it was a bit large on him, but it would suffice for now. Just as Curran began dressing, Heinwald heard a knock at the door. He answered it to see Lathna and Dominica waiting for them.

“Dinner is ready bambino,” Dominica said.

“Perfect timing,” Heinwald replied, turning back to Curran, “Curran are you ready?”

Curran tugged his shirt over his head and straightened it out.

“Yeah, I’m good to go,” he answered.

The pair left the room, following Dominica and Lathna down the hallway to the dining room. Each took their seat as servants brought out their meals for tonight. It was a rich chicken breast with vegetables and pasta, all doused in a chunky tomato sauce. Lathna’s eyes sparkled at the sight of the meal. She couldn’t remember the last time she had seen such delicious looking food. Eagerly, she stuck her fork into the chicken, cutting off a piece and raising it to her mouth. Lathna locked her lips around the morsel of meat, cupping her cheek in enjoyment and chewing with relish.

“This is so delicious!” she beamed, “I can really eat all this?”

“Of course bambina,” Dominica smiled, “Eat up!”

As Lathna ate happily, Dominica shifted her gaze to Heinwald.

“So bambino,” Dominica said, cutting a piece of her chicken, “You said that you and Curran have something to attend to. Do you mind me asking what it is?”

“Of course zia,” Heinwald replied, “Curran and I have finally figured out a way to rescue the Cardinal.”

“That’s wonderful!”

“Well, zia, that being said, Curran and I will probably be leaving tomorrow morning. We are extremely grateful that you’ve given us food and shelter while we’ve been here, but could we possibly ask you for some food and water to take with us?”

“Just food and water? I’d be happy to let you two use my carriage. I’m certain it would help to speed up the journey.”

“You’re too kind zia.”

“Anything for you bambino.”

As they continued talking and eating, Heinwald suddenly remembered another thing that needed to be taken care of; who would take care of Lathna? Thanks to Akasha, she was an orphan, and Heinwald didn’t want her to have to suffer in a foster home. He saw so much of himself in her, and wanted Lathna to have a nice warm bed and kind family to take care of her.

“Zia, there’s actually something else I want to ask of you” Heinwald entreated, “I appreciate you sheltering Lathna, but would you mind keeping her in your care for a bit longer? I don’t wish to impose, but I wouldn’t want to just leave her at an orphanage.”

Dominica dropped her fork. A smile spread across her face as she rest her hand at her heart.

“I’ve always wanted a granddaughter…” she hummed to herself.

Dominica stood up from her chair, grabbing Lathna’s hand, beaming in joy.

“Lathna, would you like to live with me?” she cooed, “I’ll gladly be your nona.”

“May I?” Lathna wondered, “I… I won’t be a burden?”

“Of course not bambina. A good girl like you deserves a nice, loving family.”

“Zia,” Heinwald smiled, “Thank you so much. I would offer to take her home with Curran and I, but I don’t want to put her in any more danger.”

“Think nothing of it,” Dominica beamed, tears forming in her eyes, “Bambino, I’m so happy. It’s been so long… it’s been too long since I’ve had a family. I’ve been so lonely, but you, Curran, Lathna… I feel like I have my own children again.”

“Zia…” Heinwald said.

“Come back and visit whenever you want bambino,” Dominica cheered, wiping the tears from her eyes, “You’re family. This is your second home now.”

As the group continued enjoying their dinner and conversation, Dominica noticed Lathna’s eyelids grow heavy, her head bobbing as she began to nod off.

“Are you tired bambina?” she asked.

“Yeah,” she yawned.

“Do you want me to take you up to your room?”

“Mmkay…”

Dominica set down her cutlery and picked Lathna up from her chair. Lathna’s eyes closed and her breathing relaxed as she fell asleep in the comfort of Dominica’s arms.

“I’m going to take Lathna upstairs,” she said, “Should I bring out some wine when I get back?”

“As tempting as that is, I think we might have to pass,” Heinwald replied, “I don’t want to risk being hungover tomorrow, especially with the long journey ahead of us.”

“I understand,” Dominica chuckled, “If that’s the case, I might stay upstairs with Lathna. She might want a bedtime story after all.”

Heinwald stood up from his chair to go hug both Lathna and Dominica.

“Thank you again zia,” he smiled, “For everything.”

“Of course bambino,” she grinned, kissing him on the cheek, “I’ll see you in the morning. Goodnight, you two.”

Dominica carried Lathna out of the dining room, taking her upstairs to her bedroom. Curran pushed his now empty plate forward and joined Heinwald, resting his arm on his shoulder.

“Maybe we should turn in too then,” he suggested.

“I think that’s a good idea,” Heinwald responded, “We have a big day tomorrow.”


	21. Chapter 21

Curran looked over their belongings one last time before heading back into the manor. Heinwald was saying his goodbyes to Dominica, and based on the look of it, she was reluctant to see him go. As much as they were indebted to Dominica for letting them stay with her, their presence helped her just as much. Dominica had people to call a family again, and like any mother, she was sad to see her baby birds leave the nest.

“Please be safe bambino,” she cooed, “And be sure to write and visit again.”

“We will, zia,” Heinwald assured.

“The carriage is all loaded up,” Curran said, cutting in and putting his arm around Heinwald’s shoulder, “We’ll be ready to go whenever you are.”

“Before you boys go, I have one more thing to give you,” Dominica remembered.

She fished into her bag pulling out a heavy, silk pouch that jingled with coins. She plopped it into Heinwald’s hand, and based on its weight alone, Heinwald could tell that this was more than enough money than they needed.

“So you can buy yourselves some nice meals and stay at inns on the way back,” she said, “I know the carriage will cut down on some of the travel time, but…”

“Zia, this is too much,” Heinwald sighed, “Curran and I are perfectly fine with sleeping outside, and we don’t need five star meals every night.”

“Please bambino, I insist,” Dominica pressed, “At least use it to buy yourself a new staff. I don’t want you going into a fight unarmed.”

Heinwald gripped tighter onto the bag. He did have that staff he managed to snag from Akasha, but it was best suited for wind mages. No matter how talented a mage he was, he wouldn’t be able to utilize the weapon to its full potential unless it was attuned to the mana to which he was naturally inclined.

“Hein, I think it might be best to take her up on the offer,” Curran said, “I know you want to get back home and set everything right but you’re still not completely recovered from that ritual. Sleeping in a warm bed on the nights of our journey will do you some good.”

“Well… I suppose when you put it that way…” Heinwald pondered, “We’ll accept your charity zia, but I promise we’ll return the favor someday.”

“You can return it by allowing me to come to your wedding,” she smiled, “I never got the chance to see Toni on his big day; there is no way I could miss letting the opportunity pass by again.”

“Of course you’re welcome to come, zia,” Heinwald chuckled, “I need someone to walk me down the aisle, don’t I?”

Dominica pulled the two into a hug, trying to put on a brave face to hide how much she would miss their company.

“Safe travels boys,” she smiled melancholically.

“Thank you for everything, zia,” Heinwald replied happily.

The two pulled away from the hug, walking out the doors of the manor and over to the carriage. Curran helped Heinwald into the back before climbing up to take the reins. Heinwald looked out the window one last time, seeing Dominica waving goodbye to them. Even with the smile across her face, tears still spilled from her eyes. Heinwald heard the horses in front whinny as Curran cracked the reins, and felt the carriage lurch forth as they began to move out of the city. Though he doubted she could see him from their distance, Heinwald waved back to Dominica, one final thank you as they left their sanctuary of Napoli.

Dominica faded away from a small figure to a dot on the horizon as the carriage rolled from the manor district to the merchant alley. Heinwald kept his eyes peeled for a staff vendor as the carriage rolled through, determined to put the money that Dominica had given them to good use. As soon as he spotted one, he stood up from his seat, leaning through the hole in the front of the cabin to get Curran’s attention.

“Curran stop,” he ordered, “I want to buy something here.”

“Smart thinking,” Curran replied, “Small towns might have a blacksmith, but ones who make magic weapons are a bit harder to come by. Let me just find somewhere I can tie the carriage up.”

Curran stepped down from the front of the carriage, looking around for a pole to which he could secure the horses and cabin. While the carriage wasn’t moving, Heinwald opened the door of the cabin, stepping out and heading into the store. Unlike most smithies, this storefront primarily sold tools of magic. Staves and wands were proudly displayed along the walls, while magic tomes were neatly stacked into bookshelves. Various potion reagents were stored in bottles behind the counter, and a small, elderly woman sat behind the cash register, flipping idly through an enchanted tome.

“What can I do for you sonny,” she beamed, her voice froggy, but kind.

“I would like to purchase one of your staves,” Heinwald said, “Are there any in particular that have been infused with dark magic?”

The old lady got down from her stool. She was easily half as tall as Heinwald, yet she seemed to pay her height no mind as she pulled a wand from her sleeve, enchanting staves from the upper shelves to float down. Three violet staves, rife with dark mana, landed in front of Heinwald.

“I would recommend these three in particular,” she said, “Our Caduceus is quite the staff if you have the coin for it.”

“May I hold it?” Heinwald asked.

“As long as you don’t go slingin’ any spells at me,” she chuckled.

Heinwald took the staff in hand, examining the long smooth pike and feathered tip. It was comfortable in his grip, and the flow of mana through it seemed compatible with his natural inclinations. Though the feathers at the end were a bit gaudy for his taste, the appearance of a magic weapon didn’t matter as long it could successfully channel mana for spells.

“I’ll take it,” Heinwald replied.

“Wonderful,” the woman chirped, “Would you care for me to wrap it up or will you take it out as is.”

“I’ll take it as is.”

Heinwald handed her a fistful of coins from the bag and thanked her, leaving the magic shop with his new prize. Curran stood beside the carriage, holding the reins since he couldn’t find a spot to tie the horses up.

“That was fast,” Curran panted, happy that he didn’t have to contend with keeping the horses in check much longer.

“The proprietor had the perfect weapon in stock,” Heinwald replied, showing off his Caduceus.

“Fancy,” Curran whistled, “But you didn’t blow all of our funds on it right?”

“Please, I may come from nobility, but I’ve never been one to waste money on frivolous things,” Heinwald sighed.

“Long as we still have enough for inn rooms for the next few nights.”

“How long do you think it will take to return home anyway?”

“Probably two or three days? Should be plenty of time for you to rest up.”

Curran opened up the door to the cabin and offered Heinwald his hand to help him up.

“And you’re certain you’ll be fine driving the carriage?” Heinwald worried, “You won’t need me to step in?”

“Manning the reins is a helluva lot easier than walking,” Curran replied, “I don’t mind letting you relax.”

Heinwald sat down in the back of the carriage and watched as Curran climbed back up to the front.

“Last call for anything else before we leave Napoli,” Curran shouted back.

Heinwald stared out the window, thinking about Dominica, about Lathna, about his time here.

“I think,” he replied, “We should be fine. Let’s be on our way.”

Curran cracked the reins once more and their carriage moved forward, down the cobblestone path and out of the city. The landscape that seemed to stretch on for days flashed by in what felt like an instant. After traversing this terrain by foot, Heinwald could truly appreciate having a carriage for transportation. Not only the trip go faster, but he wouldn’t have to worry about becoming fatigued from hiking mile after mile without a break.

As they traveled forth, Heinwald lay back against the fabric lined seats of the carriage. It wasn’t as comfortable as a bed, but it certainly felt nicer against his skin than the dirt floor of the earth. He felt his eyes grow heavy. Even after getting a full night of rest, Heinwald’s body was still fatigued from the ritual he forcibly endured. Getting some sleep would do him no harm, so he let his fatigue take over, closing his eyes to rest.

When Heinwald opened his eyes, he fell back in horror. This wasn’t the carriage. He was in Teinsom, bound in chains in the church. The acrid stench of death wafted through the air and miasma hung low on the floor. His eyes watered as the miasma poured into his lungs, making him cough and hack in a feeble attempt to expel the gas choking him. He looked around through tear blurred eyes, spotting magic circles scrawled in blood across the floor. What happened here? Why was he back in this horrible place? Suddenly a faint light crept into the room as the door opened, an ominous figure hobbling inside. Its long, crimson hair dragged against the floor and a pair of golden eyes glared at him. As the figure approached, he noticed its pink skin turning blue, and the figure’s neck crack and hang to the side unnaturally. Heinwald gasped, desperately trying to free himself as the figure became more clear, painfully aware of who it belonged to now.

“A-Akasha?” he choked, “I… How are you… I thought you were dead…”

“Akasha…” she smirked, rolling the name around on her tongue like a piece of candy, “Ho? Was that the name of this vessel? I’m simply borrowing it for the time being, though I must admit, Lord Azathoth, you certainly destroyed this being’s windpipe. It is quite hard to breathe.”

Heinwald fidgeted even more against the chains, desperately attempting to break free as the being wearing Akasha’s skin came far too close to him. It pressed a deathly cold hand to his cheek, chilling him to his core.

“Do not be frightened Lord Azathoth,” she purred, “For I am thy own kin. Perhaps since this vessel failed to complete the ritual, it has become difficult for you to decipher my identity. Very well, I have grown tired of this broken body and shall reveal my true self.”

Heinwald shrieked in horror ask the being clawed into the skin of Akasha’s face, ripping it off in chunks. It smiled and cackled as it rend Akasha’s skin from flesh, flesh from bone. As her cold blood splattered onto his face, Heinwald could only stare in horror. He wanted to look away, to squeeze his eyes shut, but when he closed his eyes, the sight was even worse. It was as if he was watching Akasha’s soul itself being dissected, and he could hear it screeching in pain and begging for mercy. Even with everything Akasha did to him and Lathna, this torture seemed too much, too inhumane for even the most heretical sinner. He wretched as the being tore open Akasha’s chest, ripping out her heart and crushing it in her fist. Blood began to seep from the crushed muscle, turning from crimson red to a glowing gold as it dripped onto the floor.

Akasha’s mutilated body soon collapsed on the floor behind him, and a pair of green horns emerged from the pool of golden blood. Heinwald’s mouth went dry and he felt as if his heart stopped as the being rose further from the pool, revealing a bird like face, a sickly thin golden body, a hideous pair of sharp talons, and a long tail.

“Pleased to make your acquaintance, vessel of Lord Azathoth,” it snarled, “I am Hastur, the King in Yellow.”

Hastur. Heinwald recalled reading about him in the restricted section of Napoli’s library. The Abysswyrm of Wind, the rival of Cthulhu, one of the selected denizens of Azathoth. Heinwald feared what this being, this _God_ would do to him, but as he lurched back to brace for a blow by its sharp talons. Yet to his surprise, the blow never came. Instead, Hastur knelt down, bowing its head as if showing its fealty.

“I apologize if I frightened you Lord Azathoth,” Hastur entreated, “I understand that while you possess his power, your body is still all to human.”

“Have… have you come to complete the ritual?” Heinwald fretted, “To completely turn me into an Abyssal?”

“Even if that was my desire I have not the power to do so,” Hastur informed, “I am but one half of the whole, a gate without the key to unlock it shall be sealed forevermore. Thus without the consent of Nyarlathotep, you will never become completely Azathoth.”

“The consent of Nyarlathotep?”

“The vessel that Nyarlathotep has come to inhabit refuses to let harm come to you, and since they rank higher in the Abyssal Pantheon, I have no room to question their judgment. I have my doubts about trusting a human child as young as her, but as she and Nyarlathotep are one in the same, I must trust her logic.”

“A young girl… Lathna.”

“Ah yes, that was the name of the vessel. Human names are quite difficult to remember.”

“Hastur, if you haven’t brought me here to complete the ritual, why am I here? Is this just a dream?”

“A dream it is. This was the most effective method of seeking parley with you. Now that I have shed the coil of that woman, I may talk to you through my own lips instead of letting my message be forever lost in translation.”

“Then, what is your message?”

Hastur stood up, waving his mighty wand to summon forth other denizens of the abyss. Formless beings, faceless gods, amalgamations of ever changing chaos creatures, all appeared in the room, beckoned to his side. Did Hastur bring these creatures here to kill him? To his surprise, the Abyssals knelt down as well, bowing their heads in humility.

“Long have our people waited for the awakening of the Father of All,” Hastur explained, “Though the ritual was incomplete, you are still his heir, bearing his blood, his authority. I have called you here to pledge loyalty, and all those who have joined me would desire the same.”

“So, you aren’t going to kill me?” Heinwald asked.

“We would not dare raise a hand against our Father, even if he is only half awakened. Your will is his, and us of the Abyss will unwaveringly follow it.”

Heinwald was shocked. These creatures of the Abyss saw him as their King, their Father. Yet now he found himself in a difficult situation. Taking the offer of their fealty was tempting. Having the support of Abyssal Gods with higher authority than Doppelgänger would certainly make the beast possessing the Cardinal submit. However, he feared the method would still make the church consider him a heretic, and he would lose the chance to return to his old life even if he saved the Cardinal. Not to mention, he didn’t know if the Abyssals would even want to side with the Church, an organization who deems anything not within the laws of Ilia heresy.

“You look puzzled, Father of All,” Hastur said.

“I…” Heinwald confessed, “I would love to call upon your power… but I fear there may be a conflict of interests… You see, even after being excommunicated, I still wish to return to the Church and rescue he who excommunicated me. But if I enlisted your help, you would be fighting for the sake of the Ilian faith, and you’d be facing off against a fellow Abyssal, Doppelgänger. Knowing that, would you even be willing to help?”

“We of the Abyss have no qualms with the Ilian Church nor the Nether. We are a neutral race who calls the Abyss home, who shuns the light of Ilia and shadow of Nether both to find comfort and peace in nothingness. Of course, some like Doppelgänger wish to return to the eyes of man, sowing chaos and gaining worship. However, many of us on the Pantheon, myself included, felt his desires were avaricious pleas from a low ranking deity. You and the Father of All himself aren’t quite so different, for he too disdained Dopplegänger’s ambition.”

“So, you truly wouldn’t mind assisting the Ilian Church?”

“If it is the order of Azathoth, we will gladly comply. Besides, Doppelgänger mustn’t gain too much power, lest he upset the authority in the Abyss that we have preserved for eons.”

“How would I even call upon you?”

“Offer unto him your blood to expel him from the possessed body. Then chant to us, and we shall come to your side.”

Heinwald heard the faint call of Curran’s voice in the back of his mind, and Hastur looked back to the Abyssals behind them.

“It appears your dream has come to an end,” Hastur said, “We shall meet again, Heinwald.”

***

Heinwald gasped as he stirred awake. The sun had already set and Curran had tied up their carriage in a new town.

“Did you sleep well?” Curran wondered, “You were out like a light.”

Heinwald mulled over the idea of telling Curran about his dream, but he didn’t want to make him worry. Even though the Abyssals who visited him intended to help, he still feared that Curran would panic and dissuade him from enlisting their aid.

“Yeah,” Heinwald replied, “Where are we now?”

“A small village on the northern outskirts of Saint Lotier,” Curran replied, “We should be back home in a few days, but I figured we should get some rest in the town’s inn tonight. Maybe we could get some grub too. I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.”

“Yeah,” Heinwald replied, “I could go for some dinner.”

“Well, how about we hit up the tavern? I’ve been dying for a good cold ale.”

“That’s fine by me.”

***

The Cardinal grunted anxiously as his Inquisitors and Paladyns entered the steeple, eager to hear his nightly report.

“A storm is coming,” he grumbled to himself, “I never would have thought he’d awaken, but no matter…”

“Sir, is everything alright?” a Paladyn girl in the front wondered.

“Our great Goddess Ilia has granted me a revelation, a warning for a dark time fast approaching,” he fibbed, “The heretic Heinwald and his partner The Cougar have emerged from hiding and are soon to return to make another attempt on my life.”

The room erupted into worried chatter and hisses of disdain, making the Cardinal smirk shrewdly.

“Alas the vision was hazy, and I know not where they will come from,” he preached, “All I know is that they will make their strike within the next few days. Therefore, I would like to request the aid of you all, my top Inquisitors and Paladyns. Protect me from these foul heretics, and bring me their heads on a platter.”

The crowd erupted in shouts of agreement and praises for the Cardinal and the Goddess.

“All of you will remain on guard at the Church in shifts,” the Cardinal informed, “However, I will be appointing some of you to higher positions due to your skill and merit.”

He stepped forward, raising his hand as he appointed his leaders.

“Alex,” he called out to a blonde church assassin, “You will be in charge of gathering intelligence of their whereabouts so we may better predict when they will strike, where they will come from, and how they attempt to do so. I will leave the scouts and assassins in your care.”

“Understood, your holiness,” she replied, bowing her head.

“Harold, Shaun,” the Cardinal continued, “You will lead the dueling and magic corps and serve as the first line of defense into the Church. I trust you will lead them well.”

“Yes sir,” the two replied in unison.

“And lastly, the most important position,” the Cardinal growled, “I can only think of one man for this job, for he is the only Inquisitor I know who could go toe to toe with The Cougar, and I’m certain he knows who he is as well.”

A man with shaggy red hair stood up from the crowd, his bow hung across his back. His amber eyes burned with intensity and a smile crept across his freckled cheeks.

“Theodore,” the Cardinal said, “I place my trust in you.”

“I won’t let you down, sir,” he grinned shrewdly.

“You are all dismissed for the evening,” the Cardinal announced, “Return to your barracks and get some rest.”

The crowd slowly began to disperse, returning to their barracks for the night. However, one remained: Theodore. He looked out the window of the Church, furrowing his brow and clenching his fist.

“Curran,” he hissed, “I’ll make you pay for the embarrassment you made me suffer that day.”


	22. Chapter 22

As the carriage rolled into town, Curran could immediately tell something wasn’t right. Perhaps it was the influence of Doppelgänger, but the town seemed darker, drearier, a cold, unwelcoming place in comparison to before. Hooded figures mulled outside of buildings while civilians cowered indoors. Something was definitely wrong here, and Curran couldn’t shake the suspicion that they were being watched. He looked back into the cabin, checking on Heinwald. Those few days of repose had done him well, and he certainly looked well prepared to face off against their foe.

“Hein,” he whispered, “I think I’m gonna take a bit of a detour.”

“Is something wrong?” Heinwald worried.

“I’m just getting a bad feeling right now… Like Doppel might know we’re coming…”

Heinwald gripped his staff nervously. He peered out the window, feeling the intense glares of passersby. Heinwald’s throat went dry. He recognized these people. They were the Church Assassins; trained scouts whose specialty was gathering information on foes and dispatching them with ease. They needed to proceed with caution lest they be killed before they even reach the Church.

“I think you might have the right of it…” Heinwald feared, “It seems like Alex and her assassins know we’re coming at the very least.”

“That doesn’t sound good at all…” Curran sighed, “But I think I’ve got an idea on how to evade them. Just hang tight back there.”

Heinwald sat back in the carriage, waiting patiently as Curran took their detour. He didn’t know where they’d be going, but Heinwald understood that it wouldn’t be wise to say the location out loud and trusted his judgment in the matter. The carriage turned down narrow pathways and dark alleyways, trying to avoid the eyes of the assassins at all costs. Suddenly the carriage came to a halt and Curran opened the door to help Heinwald out. He knew this place. They were back in the red light district at the back entrance to The Angry Cock. It was still a bit early for them to be open, but Ralph would always have the door open for them. Curran knocked on the door, holding Heinwald close to instinctively protect him from any assassins that might have followed them. Fortunately, Ralph answered quickly, pulling them inside and closing the door behind them. He was taken slightly aback at Heinwald’s appearance, but more relieved that the two were safe.”

“You’re back,” Ralph panted.

“How have things been back here?” Curran wondered.

“Not great…” he sighed, “Church has been spreadin’ all sorts of horrible rumors about you. Not to mention the Cardinal has appointed assassins, paladyns, and inquisitors to all parts of the town to hunt you guys down. Hell I wouldn’t be surprised if a few bounty hunters want your heads too…”

Heinwald looked down dejectedly. Hearing that so many of his former friends and coworkers had turned against him was disheartening to say the least. Most people would happily give up and try to start a new life somewhere else, but Heinwald refused to let Doppelgänger win. Even if history remembered him as a villain and a heretic, he knew his deeds were just and would find solace in that. Besides, even with the whole world against him, he still had people who cared for him by his side: Ralph, Dominica, Lathna, and of course, Curran. He felt Curran’s hand rest on his shoulder and saw his eyes glint in sincerity.

“Hein,” Curran worried, “I know things ain’t looking the best for us right now, but no matter what, I’ll stay by your side.”

“Curran…” Heinwald said, “Ralph, I apologize for dragging you into this, but Curran and I need to find a way to get to the Church. I know it seems like a fool’s errand, but I’m not going to give up until we try.”

Ralph chuckled jovially, “I don’t know if you two are brave, crazy, or a mix of both; but you know I’d be willing to help.”

“Thank you, Ralph,” Heinwald smiled, “If possible, could you create a diversion for us? Something to draw away the assassins’ attention. I don’t want you to do anything that would risk your life, but if you could distract them for a little while, even just for a few minutes, it would be a great help.”

“Heh, the red light distracts the Church just by existin’!” Ralph laughed, “Course I can come up with some sort of distraction.”

“We owe you again Ralph,” Heinwald thanked, “Could we also stay hidden here for a bit until the plan is ready to go?”

“Of course,” Ralph replied, heading over to the key rack and tossing them a room key, “I’ll try to gather up some other folks around here. You just sit tight and I’ll come get you when we’re ready.”

“Thank you so much,” Heinwald smiled, “Curran, care to come up to the room with me?”

“In a bit,” Curran said, “I wanna catch up with Ralph first. I’ll meet you up there.”

Heinwald nodded his head and proceeded into the inn section of the tavern to make himself comfortable in their room. Curran sighed, leaning up against the wall and shaking his head.

“Want me to get you a drink?” Ralph offered, “It’ll be on the house.”

“I’ll pass,” Curran replied, “Don’t want to sabotage myself for the fight to come.”

“You’ve certainly changed a lot Curran. The Cougar I knew would have happily gone into a fight shitfaced drunk.”

“The Cougar didn’t have anyone to lose. I’ll be damned if I let either Hein or myself die. I can’t risk losing the man I love, or worse yet, leaving him all alone.”

“Seems like he’s changed quite a bit too. You little kitten has grown some claws.”

“He’s been through a lot… and I can only hope the worst has already passed. I want to make sure he doesn’t have to suffer ever again for the rest of his life. He deserves nothing but happiness.”

“You really love him, don’t you?”

“You have no idea, Ralph. Once all the dust settles, he and I are gonna get married.”

Ralph gasped in a pleasant surprise.

“You? Getting married?” he gaped, “Wow. If someone had told me years ago that The Cougar had found someone to spend the rest of his life with, I would have laughed.”

“Don’t call me ‘The Cougar’ anymore Ralph,” Curran said, “My days as a bounty hunter are over. I can finally go back to being myself, thanks to him.”

***

A flustered assassin rushed up to his superior, panting and bowing down to her.

“Alex,” he said, “We have an emergency!”

Alex grumbled as she turned to the assassin reporting to her.

“What is it?” she shouted, “Have the fugitives been found?”

“No, but a riot has broken out in the red light district. I fear that if it continues, we’ll never be able to find the heretics amidst the chaos.”

“Damn it all… Why did they have to riot now? Divert the forces to quell the uprising as soon as possible! Make sure it is taken care of as quickly as possible! Each minute that passes is a minute more the Cardinal’s life is at risk!”

“Understood!”

***

Curran and Heinwald slipped through the backstreets as red light shop owners and patrons battled against the onslaught of church assassins. Heinwald couldn’t help but feel worried about Ralph and the others’ safety, but thanks to their bravery, the two could easily slip past the assassins without engaging in potentially fatal combat. They finally reached the shadow of the Church, seeing a veritable army of Inquisitors guarding the door. Heinwald swallowed hard. They had vaulted one hurdle only to slam right into the next one. He looked over to Curran for assurance, trying to think fast lest they squander the time that Ralph had bought for them.

“Well, got any ideas on how to get past these guys?” Curran worried.

“I’m thinking, I’m thinking…” Heinwald scrambled.

Fighting would be straight out of the question. Sure, he and Curran were a seasoned fighter and mage, but they were greatly outnumbered by the Church’s forces. They could attempt to sneak around to find another entrance, but who was to say that snipers weren’t positioned to take them out from afar. Even with stealth, they would have to be completely invisibly in order to evade them. Suddenly, a voice called to him from within. It spoke in a language he had never heard spoken by a human, yet he could understand it perfectly, as if it were directly speaking to his soul.

“Father of All, Father of All,” it called out.

An Abyssal appeared before him, a smirk stretching across its toad like face. It was a portly creature with a round potbelly and bristly hair that covered its otherwise amphibious body. Heinwald stepped back in shock at this being’s appearance, yet Curran seemed unaffected. Could it be that he couldn’t see this being?

“Be not afraid, Father of All,” it assured, “I am Tsathoggua, denizen of thy domain. I have heard thy mind’s cries for help, and would lend you my aid. For thou, I shall loan you my power of shapeshifting. Heed my words and take the form of thy enemies, so thou mayest enter their stronghold without struggle. But be warned, thy transformation is merely temporary, and thou wilst only maintain thy disguised forms for a few minutes.”

Heinwald heard whispers of an incantation, mouthing the words to cast it himself. His staff glowed violet, and a mist encircled him and Curran. He felt his body begin to change shape, his hair tinting from black and white to teal, and breasts sprouting from his chest. When the fog cleared, Curran stepped back in surprise before looking down at his own body in shock. He had taken on the form of one of the Church’s ax wielding Paladyns, Julietta, and Heinwald, one of their clerics, Hildegard.

“W-what the hell?” Curran wondered, Julietta’s voice coming from his mouth, “Hein? Did you do this?”

“I…” Heinwald stammered, amazed that the Abyssals held true to their agreement, “Yes. I… I used a temporary transformation spell.”

“Not bad. What better way to get through than to sneak in under the cover of plain sight?”

“My thoughts exactly, but we must be quick. The transformation will not last long.”

Heinwald, now Hildegard, and Curran, now Julietta, approached the front doors of the Church, only to be stopped by the Church mage Harold.

“Hildegard?” he asked, “What are you doing here? The Cardinal did not call for you today. And Julietta, aren’t you supposed to be with Shaun’s division?”

Heinwald swallowed hard, trying to think up an excuse for them to enter the Church.

“My apologies Harold,” Heinwald fibbed, “I was told to report to the infirmary on the off chance of injury, and unfortunately Julietta has come down with quite the horrible stomach ache. You know how her anxiety can get.”

Curran took the cue and doubled over, feigning stomach pain.

“Urgh…” he grumbled, “It hurts.”

“Please Harold,” Heinwald begged, “I need to get to treating her quickly before her symptoms worsen.”

“Well, if she’s in that much pain…” he conceded, “You may enter, but once she’s healed up, make sure she returns to Shaun’s post. We have to be prepared for when the heretics arrive.”

“Uuuh… of course,” Curran grunted.

Heinwald looked down to his hand. He could already see the gray color returning to his skin. They needed to get inside the Church quickly before the transformation wore off. Heinwald grabbed Curran’s hand, rushing him inside and closing the doors behind him. Fortunately for them, it seemed all of the forces had been positioned outside of the Church. The inside was relatively empty, almost ominously so. Mist swirled around the two once more, undoing their transformation and reverting them to their true forms.

“Come now Curran,” Heinwald said, “We must get to the Cardinal now while we have the opportunity.”

“We have to stay on our toes though,” Curran warned, “There’s no saying what’s waiting for us.”

Shortly after, Curran felt another presence in the room, and pulled Heinwald close, pinning him to the ground.

“Get down!” he shouted.

An arrow whirred above their heads, landing in the stone pillar behind them.

“Damn, thought I had a perfect headshot…” a voice hissed, “Guess your skills haven’t dulled, Curran.”

Curran looked up, scowling as the owner of the voice approached them. He brushed the red hair from his face, his amber eyes staring daggers at him.

“Theo…” Curran growled.

“Long time no see Curran,” Theo smirked maliciously,

Curran helped Heinwald up, standing in front of him and brandishing his ax to protect him.

“Curran, it’s two versus one,” Heinwald assured, “We can take him out.”

“No, you go save the Cardinal,” he ordered, his voice filled with determination and rage, “I’ll take care of Theo.”

“But Curran…”

“Just go! This is personal: between me and him.”

Heinwald nodded his head, understanding Curran’s unwavering resolve. This man before him had taken everything from him. He betrayed his trust, lied to get him stripped of his position, forced him to turn to a life as a bounty hunter to just make ends meet. Heinwald wouldn’t want to stand in the way of this, this revenge match, this closure where Curran would finally be able to confront Theo after all these years. He took off through the chapel, heading to the Cardinal’s quarters.

“Damn you!” Theo cursed, loosing an arrow towards Heinwald, “You’re not getting away, heretic!”

“Oh no you don’t!” Curran yelled, striking down the arrow with his ax, “If you want to kill Heinwald, you’re going to have to get through me!”

“Heh, trying to protect your bitch?” Theo scoffed, “I always had a feeling Heinwald was a disgusting faggot like you. You two are a match made in hell.”

“He isn’t my bitch. I love him, Theo, and there’s no way I’m letting you hurt him!”

Curran lunged forward with his ax, charging at Theo. Theo fired off a volley of arrows towards him, aiming for the kill. Curran dodged the projectiles deftly, swatting away the ones that he couldn’t evade. Theo gritted his teeth as Curran grew closer.

“If you won’t let him die,” he grunted “JUST DIE IN HIS PLACE! YOU SCUM! YOU HERETIC!”

An arrow grazed Curran’s arm, making him wince in pain, but he didn’t give up. Even as arrows pierced into his arms and legs, it would take a shot to the heart for him to stop his onslaught. Theo clicked his tongue as he took on the defensive, holding his bow in front of him to hold off Curran’s blow.

“Theo,” Curran growled, “Why did you do it… Why did you lie to the Inquisition and get me stripped of my position? I THOUGHT WE WERE FRIENDS!”

“Friends?” Theo hissed, “You crossed that line when you confessed to me! You… you violated my trust! All that time we spent together, you were just after my body!”

“You knew what happened to my ma… You knew how much I despise rapists… WHY THEN? WHY DID YOU TELL THEM I DID THAT TO YOU? WHY WOULD YOU LIE LIKE THAT?”

“You wouldn’t understand…”

Theo pushed his bow up to knock Curran’s axe out of his hand. He grabbed another bow from his quiver, lining up a shot to kill.

“IF I HAD AGREED TO GO OUT WITH YOU, WE’D BOTH BE DEEMED AS HERETICS! I DID WHAT I HAD TO!”

Curran froze. Did Theo just confess that he would have gone out for him if not for the Church’s view of homosexuality? No. It certainly was meant to distract him while he lined up his shot. Theo loosed his arrow, and it came soaring towards Curran’s forehead. At this rate, it would strike him between his eyes and kill him, but there was no way he could let that happen. He had to get out of here alive. He had to see his happy future come to fruition with Heinwald. Before the arrow could strike, he raised his prosthetic arm to his forehead. The head of the arrow pierced the metal of the prosthetic, stopping right before it reached his skin. He used the moment of confusion to tackle Theo, spilling his quiver of arrows across the floor and knocking the bow out of his hands. Theo looked up in fear as Curran pinned him down, raising his metal, prosthetic hand to strike, but as he braced for the blow, it never came. He opened his eyes to see Curran looking over him in disdain.

“Aren’t you going to kill me?” Theo spat, “Finish the job?”

“What did you mean by ‘if you agreed to go out, we’d both be heretics’?” Curran asked, “Did you actually like me Theo?”

Theo looked away, blush painting his cheeks and making his freckles even more apparent.

“Of course I did…” he confessed, “But I was so scared and confused when it all happened. The Church had always taught us that being homosexual was wrong. I… I was afraid, Curran… I saw it as a situation I couldn’t win in either way.”

“So your solution was throwing me under the bus? So you could save your own ass?!”

“I didn’t think I had any other choice! If I said yes, they would have found out and excommunicated us both. If I said no, rumors would have gone around about me being a closeted homo for not outright reporting you on the spot… I… I did what I had to Curran!”

“That’s bullshit… THAT’S SUCH BULLSHIT THEO!”

Theo grimaced as Curran punched the ground next to him, his face burning red in anger.

“You think you can patch up everything you did with that?” he snarled, “I lived like a fugitive for FIVE FUCKING YEARS THEO! YOU AT LEAST OWE ME AN APOLOGY!”

“I… I’m sorry Curran,” Theo cried, “I’m so, so sorry… I’m sorry that you had to suffer because I was a coward…”

Curran looked over to Theo’s bow, picking it up and snapping it in half before getting off of him.

“So you really aren’t going to kill me then,” Theo said.

“I’m not going to kill you. I’m not going to forgive you either though, Theo,” Curran grumbled, “You go off and live your life. Stay in the closet or find yourself a boyfriend. I don’t care. Just don’t deny me my happiness when I’ve found a man who was willing to throw his whole livelihood away just to be with me.”

“Curran!” Theo shouted.

Curran ignored his cries, leaving Theo behind to go find Heinwald. He didn’t know if Heinwald had already saved the Cardinal or not, but he needed to find him. He needed to be with the man he loved until the bitter end.


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Was hoping to get this chapter our earlier, but unfortunately my car got hit and run this week, so I had to settle that before I could get to writing.

Heinwald gripped his staff tightly as he ran down the halls of the cathedral, keeping an eye out for stray assassins or snipers that might strike him down before he reached the Cardinal’s chamber. Even though Curran wanted his duel with Theo to be a one on one fight, Heinwald couldn’t help but worry for Curran’s safety. Curran was a skilled warrior and certainly and equal match for Theo in terms of combat abilities, but he dreaded returning from his fight against the Cardinal only to see Curran’s corpse. What good would victory be if he lost the man he had come to love so dearly? Heinwald shook his head. He had to stay faithful that Curran would emerge victorious and shift his focus to his own daunting battle to come.

He froze once he reached the door to the Cardinal’s office. Heinwald was prepared for this moment, but he still felt a twinge of fear. Victory was his only option. If he fell here, he would be leaving Curran behind, he would make Dominica suffer another painful loss, and history would remember him as a foul villain who attempted to assassinate a high-ranking clergyman. His hand shivered as he reached for the doorknob. Heinwald needed to steel himself. If he let his foe know his of his fears, his defeat was inevitable. He placed his hand on the doorknob, swallowing hard before turning it and rushing into the Cardinal’s quarters. Heinwald felt a chill as soon as he entered the room, his breath growing short as a miasma of black mana flooded his lungs. He coughed and hacked, his eyes watering as he made eye contact with his foe. The Cardinal’s body had severely changed since Heinwald was forced to flee. He was already an old man, but under the influence of Doppelgänger, he looked decrepit, his pale skin almost a ghostly gray. His eyes glowed violet with malicious intent and black mana seemed to seep from every orifice on his body. Heinwald stood his ground, brandishing his staff as he prepared to face off against the fiend possessing the Cardinal.

“Doppelgänger!” he shouted, “Your time has come! Retreat from the Cardinal’s body or I will force you out myself!”

“Well, well,” Doppelgänger hissed, “If it isn’t the foolish fledgling who attempted to expel me. Perhaps I put too much faith in the mindless ilk who follow the false creed of Ilia. I was certain they would have made short work of you, yet here you stand, unfortunately very much alive.”

“I am no longer the man I once was, fiend. For all of my struggles I have grown stronger. The humiliation, the fear, the torture; I have survived it all and emerged with the power and knowledge to defeat you!”

Heinwald raised his staff, chanting an incantation to channel dark mana from the tip of the weapon. The feathers at the end of the Caduceus sharpened like a blade, and with one flick of his wrist, daggers of mana went soaring towards Doppelgänger. The fiend jumped back in shock, smirking shrewdly as one barely grazed his ribs.

“I see you have learned a few new tricks boy,” he scoffed, “But your attempts on my life are a mere exercise in futility. No mere mortal can separate me from this pathetic human’s body, let alone kill me.”

Heinwald grinned, laughter spilling from his mouth as dark mana surrounded him. Doppelgänger froze in fear, painfully aware of this familiar aura now filling the room. Even if he did have Abyssal blood, how could this mere mortal exude the same authority as the Father of All. No normal human would be able to maintain their sanity, let alone humanity, after undergoing a ritual of Eldritch awakening.

“Oh I am well aware of that, Doppelgänger, but I fear you miscalculated,” Heinwald cackled, “For during my time in hiding, I have grown rather acquainted with several of your kin, and they too find your actions to be utterly reprehensible.”

Heinwald closed his eyes as he let his Abyssal Connection take over, muttering R’yleh incantations of summoning to call upon his new allies; his “children.”

“Ph'nglui mglw'nafh,” Heinwald chanted, “Cthulhu R'lyeh wgah'nagl fhtagn!”

Doppelgänger’s face went red in rage, veins popping above his brow and his teeth gritting.

“You…” he hissed, “You would dare invoke my kith and kin? You would dare suggest they would side with a pathetic mortal? You mock me with this insolence! DIE YOU FALSE PROPHET!”

As Doppelgänger lunged to attack Heinwald, tentacles emerged from the earth below him, binding his legs and felling him. He looked up towards Heinwald, his grease coated hair falling into his face.

“Cthulhu?” Doppelgänger grunted, “You would betray me? YOU WOULD BETRAY YOUR BROTHER OF THE ABYSS FOR THIS FLEDGELING?”

“I answer not to you, minor Abyssal,” Cthulhu’s deep voice scoffed, its tone almost muffled as if it were underwater, “He who descended from mine grandsire is bonded to me by blood. I answer to the Father of All and the Father of All alone.”

Color drained from Doppelgänger’s face as he grasped the danger of his situation. He knew Heinwald possessed Abyssal blood, but he never would have thought that he was a direct descendant of Azathoth himself. Doppelgänger struggled against Cthulhu’s bindings, desperately struggling to free himself. He was outmatched, outclassed. The Father of All Abyssals had come to deliver judgment, and Doppelgänger feared for his very soul.

“Lord Azathoth?” he hacked, “Is it truly you? Have you truly awakened?”

“He has granted me his power,” Heinwald said, “But I am no slave to his desires. I shall choose my own path. I shall pursue my own justice with my own hands. To that, our goals our that same, for I am Azathoth and he is me, but I am also Heinwald, and he will not deprive me of my humanity.”

Heinwald plucked one of the sharp mana feathers from the end of his staff, slicing open the palm of his hand. His blood dripped onto the floor as he approached the squirming fiend.

“Liar! Faker!” Doppelgänger spat, “You must be using some sort of glamour or illusion magicks. There is no way… There is no way the Father of All would allow a human to escape with his mind and body still intact!”

“It appears you know little of Azathoth’s true ideals,” Heinwald scolded, “You have disturbed the Abyss’ long preserved neutrality and your lust for power has brought chaos to the Ilian faith. I have come as his emissary to enact your punishment.”

“You speak of defending the Ilian Church. They will still deem you a heretic for the methods you used! They will never accept you who has awakened the blood of the Abyss!”

“Let them hear tales of my nature. Let them gossip and chatter until their jaws grow sore. One cannot find heresy in mere rumors or hearsay. As my goals align with both Ilia and Azathoth’s will, I know in my heart that I am no heretic!”

Heinwald slapped his bleeding hand over Doppelgänger’s mouth, forcing him to swallow his blood, the blood of Azathoth. Doppelgänger screamed, hacking as the blood flowed down his throat. It stung his soul like a foul poison, making the body of the Cardinal night uninhabitable. He felt like his soul was crumbling under the intense pressure of a collapsing building. If he didn’t escape, he felt his soul would be extinguished, yet retreating from the Cardinal’s body meant he would face the wrath of the Abyssal pantheon. Doppelgänger found he had little choice in his evacuation and was promptly forced out of the Cardinal’s body like a bullet being fired from a gun.

The Cardinal’s body collapsed limp on the floor, he was still alive, but his soul was certainly exhausted after Doppelgänger had taken control of him for such a long time. Black mana escaped from his body, slowly shifting into Doppelgänger’s true form. His body was an amorphous miasma of black mana and poison, his limbs extending like tendrils from the body. Doppelgänger lacked a face, yet Heinwald could still see its rage and agony across as plain as day.

“Heinwald…” Doppelgänger growled, “You foul wretch!”

Doppelgänger’s nigh incorporeal body grew thin, attempting to disperse into the aether to escape. Yet as he made for the cracks in the walls, windows, and doorway, Doppelgänger found himself blocked off, as if a wall of mana was sealing every last means of escape. The familiar gold body of Hastur appeared, bowing down to Heinwald, having sealed off the exits.

“Well done, Hastur,” Heinwald smiled, “You will not escape Doppelgänger! You’re coming with me!”

Heinwald waved his staff, chanting and calling forth another Abyssal beast. It emerged from a tear in the mana, crawling out on all fours. Scaled skin hung from its barbed horns and its faceless maw gaped hungrily.

“Thou hast called upon us, Father?” it said.

“Nyarlathotep,” Heinwald ordered, “Now! Open up the gate to the Abyss! Trap Doppelgänger within so no harm comes to the Cardinal’s body!”

“As thou desirest.”

Doppelgänger felt himself being pulled into the tear that Nyarlathotep had created. No matter how hard he struggled, he could not escape the suction of the rift, screaming as he found himself pulled back into the Abyss. Heinwald jumped through the tear, Nyarlathotep sealing the rift behind them. The acrid air around them seemed not as potent to Heinwald, but for Doppelgänger, the environment seemed to suffocate him, even with his innate resistance to poison. Other Abyssals emerged from the darkness around them, snarling and hissing at their kin whose greed had corrupted him and put their Abyss in danger.

_“Doppelgänger… Doppelgänger… DOPPELGÄNGER!” _they screeched in cacophony.

“My kin… my brothers and sisters, my sires and spawn…” Doppelgänger begged, “Please have mercy. Please spare me!”

“Thy actions have endangered us all,” Nyarlathotep growled, “Thou are no kin to us! Thou art a greedy traitor! Thy pleas for mercy are but wind.”

Doppelgänger looked around in fear. It appeared all of the Abyssals found his pleas for mercy nothing more than a folly. His gaze shifted to Heinwald. Even without a face, Doppelgänger felt like he could cry.

“Azathoth,” he pleaded in a last ditch attempt, “Please allow me to live. I beg of you.”

Heinwald sneered, gripping his staff in rage, “You would dare to ask me for mercy? You would dare beg for me to spare your life when you would have gladly taken mine? Well, rejoice Doppelgänger, for I will not decide your fate. I leave that decision to the others on the Pantheon.”

“Father of All! Please no! They will torture me within an inch of my life! They will keep me alive only to torture me again once I have healed!”

Heinwald turned to Nyarlathotep, “I will leave him in your care. Open the rift so I may depart.”

“Of course, Father,” Nyarlathotep replied.

Cthulhu held Doppelgänger down, the other Abyssal deities swarming onto him like the feeding frenzy of a pack of hungry wolves. Nyarlathotep tore a hole in the fabric of the Abyss’ reality, creating a rift to Heinwald’s home world.

“Be safe, Father,” Nyarlathotep said, “Take care of our vessel, for she views you the same as we; with all the love of a daughter towards her sire.”

Heinwald patted Nyarlathotep on its head, making it purr like a kitten. Even with the shrieks of Doppelgänger being marred behind him, he felt he would be able to rest easily knowing that the Cardinal was safe. Doppelgänger’s punishment was just. For all of the corruption he had caused, for all the lives he had sacrificed, for all the suffering he had forced Heinwald to endure, Doppelgänger would experience the pain he had caused, drown in the chaos he had sewn with his own hands.

Heinwald jumped through the rift, the space sealing behind him as soon as his feet made contact with the ground in his own world. He heard the Cardinal begin to stir, rushing over to heal him. Heinwald waved his staff over the Cardinal, healing his wounds and restoring his energy. As his eyes fluttered open, he was taken aback by Heinwald’s new appearance, his formerly jet-black hair streaked with white and his porcelain skin patched with gray.

“Your Holiness,” Heinwald sighed in relief, “It is good to see you back to your old self.”

“H-Heinwald, my boy,” the Cardinal coughed, “What happened to you? What happened to me?”

“I fear you were possessed by a foul being called Doppelgänger for several weeks. He was attempting to gain authority within the Church in a vain attempt to usurp Ilia.”

“My goodness… And you my boy… your skin, your hair…”

Heinwald twirled a strand of white hair between his fingers.

“I fear these were a result of my initial attempted exorcism,” Heinwald sighed, “And an unfortunate ritual I was forced to endure during my time on the run.”

“Time on the run?” the Cardinal wondered, “Heinwald, was that my doing.”

“While in your body, Doppelgänger framed me for an assassination attempt, excommunicated me, and deemed me a heretic with a bounty on my head.”

The door to the Cardinal’s chamber slammed open, and Curran came rushing in. Though he bore a few wounds from his fight with Theo, he paid them no mind, immediately running to check on Heinwald. He knelt down pulling him into a tight hug.

“Heinwald! I’m so happy you’re alright!” he beamed.

The Cardinal fell back in shock, “The Cougar? What is this bounty hunter doing here? Was he one of the ones after you?”

“No your Holiness,” Heinwald replied, “If it weren’t for him, I never would have survived my first night in hiding.”

“Oh, well my thanks for protecting our top Inquisitor, Mr. Cougar. If there is anything you desire in return, I will gladly open the Church’s coffer’s to pay you back.”

Heinwald turned to Curran, gripping onto his hand and nodding his hand.

“Actually your Holiness, there are a few things we would like to ask of you,” Heinwald confessed, “I would like my excommunication overturned and my position reinstated…”

“Of course, that is only natural,” the Cardinal responded.

“But there’s also someone else who I feel deserves to have his position restored. I don’t know if you recall, but five years ago, an Inquisitor trainee named Curran was excommunicated and stripped of his role on the basis of a false rumor. I would ask for him to be reinstated as well.”

“Oh, if the rumor was false, of course I can reinstate him, but might I ask why? Is he a distant relative of yours?”

“He’s me,” Curran interrupted.

The Cardinal’s jaw dropped. He couldn’t recognize Curran after how much he changed during the past five years. It was clear that life wasn’t kind to him, yet he still seemed happy somehow.

“Curran,” the Cardinal apologized, “It’s really you. So all this time, you’ve been a bounty hunter?”

“Was the only thing I could do to make ends meet,” Curran informed, “At first I didn’t really care if I was welcomed back to the church or not, but after spending so much time with Heinwald, I’d love nothing more than to join the Inquisition once more and stay by his side as his partner.”

“I can certainly arrange that. I will have you reinducted to the Inquisition as soon as possible, Curran.”

Heinwald squeezed Curran’s hand tighter, debating asking his other request. He had gotten his name cleared and both his and Curran’s positions restored, yet if he asked this one question, it could all be taken away from him. Even so, he couldn’t hide the truth from the Cardinal forever. He needed to ask the request for his and Curran’s sake.

“Your Holiness, there is one more thing Curran and I want to ask of you,” he swallowed hard.

“Ask away. I am in your debt for saving my life,” the Cardinal assured, “I will gladly hear your request.”

“You see, one of the rumors that spread after my excommunication… was that Curran and I had engaged in sodomy with each other.”

“And you would like this rumor dispelled?”

“Well you see, they weren’t entirely wrong. I’m aware the Church views homosexuality as a sin, but we have grown so close during our time together… that we’ve fallen madly in love with each other; and we want to get married. I understand this might be asking for too much, but I beg of you. Please allow Curran and I to wed.”

The Cardinal rubbed his chin pensively.

“The Church has long held onto the tradition of matrimony being a sacred act between a man and a woman,” the Cardinal said, “But that being said, traditions change with time. You saved my life, Heinwald. You saved the whole Church from a horrible fate. Allowing you your happiness, to wed the person you love, is the very least I can do. So instead, I shall do more.”

The Cardinal stood up, his stance still slightly wobbly from the stress his body had endured, signaling for the two to follow him. They followed him down the hallway until they reached the Church’s balcony, looking out over the town. The Cardinal cleared his voice, announcing to his Paladyns and Inquisitors on guard duty outside.

“Hear ye, proud clergy of the Ilian Church,” he announced, “I have come to clear the air. To clear the names of two noble men whose deeds of heroism will certainly go down in the annals of our history. They had endured many hardships, even excommunication, yet they still persisted and saved not only my life, but also the future of our very Church. For a foul deity called Doppelgänger had possessed me, my soul trapped while he wore my skin as his own. Had these two brave souls, Heinwald and Curran, not intervened and exorcized this demon, it would have achieved its goal of infiltrating our clergy and usurping our Goddess.”

The crowd broke out into a chatter, amazed to hear that Curran and Heinwald not only saved their Cardinal and their Church, but did so when the entire clergy had turned against them.

“For their heroism, I have decided to grant them any request they desire. Yet their humility is a testament to their characters, requesting neither wealth nor fame. Therefore, I hereby reinstate the two as Inquisitors, and rescind their excommunications. Such heroes who would go to such an extent to save my soul are no heretics.”

Members of the crowd clapped, cheering for the two saviors of their church.

“I have one additional announcement to make. Had it not been the bond between them, they wouldn’t have persisted amidst their hardships. Their regard for each other is far past that of amity, one of love instead. As you all know, our Church has never acknowledged same sex relationships. However, in light of their deeds, their heroism, I feel that it would be cruel of me to deny them the blessings we grant to heterosexual couples. Let it be known that these two men shall be the first same sex couple to be wed under the blessing of the Ilian Church, and that the Church of Ilia will no longer discriminate against same sex couples. From now on, the Ilian Church will welcome any pairs who wish to wed, same or opposite sex!”

“Your Holiness,” Heinwald gasped, “Are you certain? You’ll really let same sex couples wed?”

“Of course Heinwald, my boy,” the Cardinal chuckled, “You, Curran, and any others who wish to marry someone of their gender; you have the blessing of the Ilian Church.”

“Thank you,” Heinwald smiled, hugging the Cardinal tightly, “Thank you your Holiness.”

“There is no need to embrace me such. Go on, embrace the one you love.”

Heinwald separated from the Cardinal, jumping into Curran’s arms and kissing him lovingly. Curran spun him around, happily returning the kiss.

“We’ve won Heinwald,” Curran smiled.

“This almost feels too good to be true,” Heinwald beamed, “I can’t believe it. We can get married. The Church is letting us get married.”

“Even if they didn’t I’d still find a way to tie the knot with you. But I gotta admit, being able to marry you without fear of being ostracized and being treated like a hero? I could get used to this.”

Heinwald kissed Curran once more on the lips, his eyes glowing with happiness. It felt like a fairy tale ending. All of the suffering, all of the hardships, it was worth it. Curran was his, and the Church warmly accepted them and their love. Heinwald could gladly look forward to the future, his happy future with Curran by his side.


	24. Epilogue

Curran never really cared about having a big wedding. So long as he could be with the person he loved, he didn’t even mind eloping. However, it seemed like half of Alberia’s gay and lesbian population had shown up to his and Heinwald’s wedding, offering their blessings and their thanks for paving the way for same sex couples everywhere and making history as the first gay couple to be legally married in their nation. Their union had sparked a wave of people coming out, even amongst fellow Inquisitors and Paladyns. While some people still resisted the change and refused to acknowledge same sex couples, most citizens were willing to accept them. The change became especially apparent in the red light district. As people didn’t need to fear excommunication or worse for being gay anymore, the clubs and taverns could now hire better trained guards to keep their patrons safe. Gropers and creeps were no longer dismissed as an inevitable evil, and the amount of victims of assault began to dwindle with the growing amount of security guards to protect them.

Curran opened the door to the tavern, bowing his head and allowing Heinwald to step inside. The Angry Cock was just as busy as it always was, yet today it seemed cleaner, safer, more welcoming. A bouncer stood by the doorway, his discerning frown turning into a smile upon recognizing the pair of patrons.

“Well look who it is!” he grinned, “The boss has been waiting for you. He’s got two seats reserved for you at the bar. Mind if I take your coats?”

“No thank you,” Heinwald replied, “How about you, Curran?”

Curran shrugged his jacket off of his shoulders, handing it to the bouncer to store away.

“Might as well,” he said, “Don’t wanna keep ol’ Ralph waitin’.”

As the pair approached the bar, Curran turned his gaze to the stage set up where the dance floor normally was. Ralph had always wanted to host cabaret nights in his bar, but feared that horny patrons would try to attack anyone who wanted to perform and scare off potential dancers. Now that he could hire security, Ralph could make that dream a reality. Curran pulled a stool out for Heinwald and let him make himself comfortable as Ralph approached the pair.

“Glad you two could make it,” he beamed.

“We wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Heinwald responded, “A cabaret night for charity; this is perfect for date night.”

“It was your own charity, right Ralph?” Curran wondered, “What was its name again?”

“The Mother Hens’ Foster Home,” Ralph said proudly, “We’ve started to get lots more same sex couples comin’ in to adopt. Guess I have you two and the Cardinal to thank for that.”

“Bah, you don’t need to thank us,” Curran laughed, “I’m just happy more couples are willing to adopt gay kids, and that gay couples _are_ adopting them for that matter.”

“Speakin’ of kids,” Ralph started, “How’s your little girl doing? Lathna, was it?”

“She’s doing well,” Heinwald replied, “She loves her new home and her nona comes to visit all the time. As a matter of fact, she’s babysitting her right now.”

“Glad to know she’s in good hands,” Ralph said, “I’ll make sure her papas don’t get too sloshed tonight.”

“Seriously Ralph?” Curran groaned, “Cabarets are even better when you’re wasted…”

Ralph exchanged a quick glance with Heinwald, winking at him.

“Trust me Curran,” he assured, “I think you’re gonna want to be at least a little sober for part of tonight’s show. Now how about I get you guys started with some grub and drinks. I’ve got a new milkshake on the menu for you, Heinwald.”

“Do you?” Heinwald beamed, intrigued, “What flavor, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Apple strudel,” he replied.

“That sounds delightful,” Heinwald smiled, his mouth watering, “I would love to try it.”

“Comin’ right up,” Ralph chuckled, “Anything for you Curran?”

“What kind of stout you got tonight?” Curran asked, “I’m in the mood for a nice, dark ale.”

“Just got a shipment of coffee stout, but we’ve also got oatmeal, chocolate, and peanut butter stout too.”

“I think I’ll go for the coffee stout,” Curran ordered.

“I’ll pour you a glass once I’m done with Hein’s drink,” Ralph nodded, “You guys make yourselves comfortable. The cabaret should be starting soon.”

Curran turned his attention to the stage, watching as performers checked in and tested the acoustics. This being the red light district, Curran expected a fair share of burlesque and exotic dancing, yet to his pleasant surprised, the acts appeared to have much more variety. Bards, poets, and musicians were queued up to perform along with those he expected, making the cabaret seem more like a variety or talent show than one that focused only on dirty dancing.

Ralph set down Heinwald’s drink on the bar, placing a cherry atop the dollop of whipped cream and sliding a straw into the glass. It was swirled with caramel, and chunks of apple were speckled throughout the shake. To Curran, it looked like a toothache waiting to happen, but to Heinwald, it looked heavenly. Heinwald happily sipped his drink while Ralph pulled out another glass, pouring a rich, dark ale straight from the tap. Foam spilt over the rim as Ralph slid it to Curran, the ice-cold condensation on the glass a balm to Curran’s work worn palms. Swinging an ax all day took a toll on his body, and at the end of the day, Curran found there was nothing better than a tall, cold glass of ale to soothe his aches and calm his nerves.

The lights in the room began to dim as the cabaret began, a spotlight illuminating the performer onstage. The first person up was a bard with a lute in hand. As he strummed his instrument, his tenor voice echoed throughout the room, singing a calming ballad about the dragons of legend. Heinwald reached out for Curran’s hand, gripping it tightly as he looked into his eyes lovingly.

“How’s your drink?” Curran asked.

“Absolutely delicious,” Heinwald replied, taking another sip, “I doubt you’d enjoy it though. How is yours?”

“Refreshing,” Curran sighed, “Looks like ol’ Ralph can finally start to splurge on quality booze. Maybe one day he’ll pick up a wine that’ll appease your picky palette.”

“Rude…”

“I’m just teasin’ you babe.”

Curran gave Heinwald a chaste peck on the cheek. As the first performer left the stage to make way for the next, Heinwald’s gaze shifted from the stage to the clock on the wall. He let go of Curran’s hand and set down his drink, standing up from his barstool.

“I have to use the restroom,” he said, “I’ll be right back.”

“Mmk. I’ll be here,” Curran responded.

Heinwald disappeared into the crowd, making his way towards the bathroom. Curran sipped away at his stout, the glass slowly draining as acts came and went. Heinwald always did take a while in the restroom, but he had already missed three performances. What on earth was taking him so long? Did something happen to him? Right as Curran was about to go searching for him, he froze in place. A familiar face was taking the stage, wearing an outfit that left very little to the imagination.

“Hein?” Curran choked, gaping in awe at his husband.

This was quite the change from Heinwald’s typical, more conservative attire. His lace stockings clung to his pale legs like a second skin, and garters trailed from the frilly trim of his thigh highs all the way to his slender waist. A familiar, nearly transparent lace coat lay across his torso, and a seductive bralette wrapped around his chest, his nipples pert enough to be seen underneath the fabric. A black corset was snug around his already thin waist, and his long, black and white hair was tied up into a high ponytail. His lips were tinted red with lipstick, and violet eye shadow sat in smoky clouds on his eyelids. The sight was nearly enough to give Curran whiplash, but he wasn’t complaining. It was nice seeing this sexier side of his normally more reserved partner.

The crowd erupted into hoots, hollers, and whistles as Heinwald wrapped his hands around the microphone stand, his lips tantalizingly close to it. He made eye contact with Curran, winking at him seductively. His body language was screaming “do you like what you see?” Curran blushed, already half hard from the sight alone. He was the luckiest guy in the world to have such a sexy husband.

Music began to play behind him, and Heinwald parted his lips. Curran felt his heart skip a beat as his husband began to sing. His voice was angelic; a deep, rich baritone that flowed like honey from his lips. Curran had no idea that Heinwald was such an amazing singer. The gentle swaying of his hips to the rhythm only added to the raw sex appeal of his voice. Curran was entranced. He wished he were that microphone onstage, to be cradled in Heinwald’s hands, to have his lips nearly pressed against him and feel his warm breath as he sang. The song was over all too soon. Curran knew that he could easily hear more anytime he wanted, but seeing his husband looking so confident, so sexy, so angelic up on that stage lit a fire in his belly.

The crowd erupted in cheers, throwing flowers, rupies, and even panties up onto the stage. Heinwald blushed, flattered that they enjoyed his performance. Curran couldn’t help himself anymore. He stood up from his stool, running up onstage and pulling Heinwald into a passionate kiss. The crowd erupted in chatter as Heinwald returned the kiss, cupping his face and smearing his red lipstick against Curran’s lips.

“Security! Get this man off the stage!” a voice from the crowd shouted.

Heinwald was amazed at how much the crowd of the club had changed for the better. Before, others wouldn’t have batted an eye if someone was assaulted, yet now they were concerned for his safety and dignity. Heinwald parted from the kiss, walking back up to the microphone.

“It’s ok. He’s my husband,” Heinwald assured.

“Lucky guy…” another voice in the crowd said.

Heinwald turned back to Curran, his makeup now slightly smudged, with sweat from the heat of the stage lights dripping from his brow.

“Come now Curran,” Heinwald giggled, “I have to make way for the next performer.”

Heinwald guided him off of the stage, back behind the curtains. As soon as they were out of the view of the audience, Curran pulled Heinwald back into a kiss, even more wet and passionate than before. His hands wandered, feeling up Heinwald’s body as he grinded his now full erection against Heinwald’s thighs. Heinwald whimpered as Curran bit his lower lip before pulling away, red stained saliva still linking their lips.

“By the Goddess you’re so sexy,” Curran growled, “I had no idea you had such an amazing voice.”

“You never asked to hear it,” Heinwald replied.

“Well I’ll definitely be hitting you up to hear it more often. Fuck, I’m so lucky to have you.”

Curran bit into the tender flesh of Heinwald’s neck, making him whimper in pleasure. After seeing Heinwald’s performance, he wanted nothing more than to bend him over and hear him “sing” in another way.

“Let’s get a room,” Heinwald purred.

“Hope I can hold it that long,” Curran growled, “I wanna fuck you so bad.”

Heinwald’s eyes went half lidded as his hand wandered to Curran’s groin. Curran’s breath hitched as he felt Heinwald’s hand dip into his pants, stroking and teasing his erection.

“Oh I want this too,” Heinwald teased, “But you’ll have to behave yourself and wait until we’re upstairs.”

Curran swallowed hard as he felt Heinwald’s warm breath against his ear.

“Then you can use me however you want; fuck me like the little slut I am,” Heinwald whispered.

Heinwald had gotten so good at teasing and dirty talk. He knew exactly what to say to get him riled up, to make him fuck him harder, and Ilia knew Heinwald loved being treated roughly in bed. Heinwald pulled his hand from Curran’s pants and kissed him chastely, stroking his sharp jawline, his rugged goatee.

“Now let’s go ask Ralph for a room key,” Heinwald smirked, “Try your best to keep your hands off of me until then.”

“Fuck…” Curran hissed.

Curran bit his lip as they walked over to the bar counter. The fact that Heinwald was walking in front of him didn’t help his desire in the slightest. The outfit looked even more erotic from the back. With his hair tied up, Curran could see every outline of his back through the transparent coat, and it was even more dangerous if he looked down. Heinwald was wearing a fucking _thong_. His ass was completely on display. Months ago Heinwald would never be caught dead wearing this for anyone, let alone in public. Perhaps this was his way of getting revenge for the “disguise” that Curran made him wear the first time he took him to this bar. Heinwald was far too sexy for his own good, and it was taking all of Curran’s willpower not to touch him. After what seemed like an eternity, they finally made it to the bar counter.

“Great job up there Heinwald,” Ralph praised, “You’ve got some killer pipes.”

“How kind of you Ralph,” Heinwald smiled, “Thank you for allowing me to perform.”

“You’re more than welcome to do so again anytime. Hell I’ll pay you if you want. Well, that is if you can get the time off.”

Curran gritted his teeth. He could tell Heinwald was trying to drag out the conversation on purpose, to tease him and test his restraint. Curran had overcome many difficulties before, but he feared that this trial would be his undoing.

“Ralph, buddy,” he butted in, “We’d love to chat with you longer, really we would, but can we get a room key?”

Ralph wiggled his brow suggestively, “Oh? But of course.”

He grabbed a key off of the rack, tossing it to Curran.

“Room 207,” he said, “You two have fun.”

Not a moment after Curran caught the key did he grab onto Heinwald’s arm, practically dragging him to the stairway leading to the inn section of the tavern. Once they reached the door, Curran fiddled with the key, trying to unlock the door as fast as he could.

“Ho? What’s taking you so long, Curran,” Heinwald teased, “Normally you’re so good at finding the hole on your first try.”

Curran flushed red to his ears. As soon as they got inside, he was determined to give Heinwald the dicking of his life, to replace his snark with moans of pleasure and praise of his skills in bed. At long last, he managed to slide the key in, turning the knob and opening the door to the inn room. Once the door had closed behind them, neither of the two could hold themselves back, succumbing to their lusts as they embraced. They hadn’t even made it to the bed, and already Heinwald had slid his tongue into Curran’s mouth, his clothed erection grinding against Curran’s. Curran grunted, returning the kiss with equal passion, with equal desire for dominance. One hand cupped the back of Heinwald’s scalp, tugging at his ponytail to make him open his jaw wider; the other slid down to the curve of his ass, meandering betwixt Heinwald’s cheeks to tease at his hole.

“Teasing me for being eager,” Curran panted between kisses, “But grinding on me as soon as we get into the room. Bit hypocritical, don’t ya think?”

“I never said I wasn’t eager, Curran,” Heinwald retorted, “I’m just better at hiding it in public than you are.”

“Can you blame me for it? Especially with how hot you look right now. Back when we first met, I never would have thought you had this in you, babe.”

“And who do you think is to blame for it? Perhaps the one who insisted on taking my virginity in a confessional chamber.”

“Guilty as charged.”

“You better take responsibility, Curran.”

Heinwald pulled him over to the bed, falling backward into the cushion of the mattress and taking Curran down with him.

“And fuck me senseless like the little slut I’ve become,” Heinwald whispered.

“Is that an invitation?” Curran purred.

“That’s an order.”

“Well you know I’d be glad to comply.”

Curran pulled down Heinwald’s thong, freeing his dripping cock. He curled his palm around it, stroking him with fervor and making Heinwald shiver in delight.

“The corset ain’t too hard to breathe in it, is it?” Curran wondered.

“No, I didn’t make it too tight,” Heinwald whimpered, “Why do you ask.”

“You look so sexy right now, I’d love to keep the rest of your outfit on and fuck you while you’re still wearing it.”

“If that’s what you want, sure. Just as long as you make me feel good.”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Curran reached into the nightstand. Since this was the inn above a gay bar, it was only natural that they’d be stocked with an ample supply of lube for their customers. He pulled out a bottle, slicking his fingers before cramming one inside of Heinwald’s hole. Heinwald winced in a mixture of pain and pleasure, enjoying of the sensation as Curran’s finger probed around his underprepared entrance.

“You like that babe?” Curran asked.

“Feels good,” Heinwald panted, “But hurry up and stretch me. I need you inside of me, Curran.”

Curran unceremoniously thrust in another finger, digging into Heinwald’s prostate. Heinwald shivered from head to toe, moaning as Curran caressed his sensitive gland.

“Right there,” Heinwald cried out, “That feels so good…”

“Normally I’d stretch you a bit more, but I think you’re ready,” Curran growled, “I doubt either of us can hold ourselves back much longer.”

“Go ahead. Put it in.”

Curran withdrew his fingers and hastily stripped off his own clothes. He coated his member in lube, giving it a few strokes to make sure he was thoroughly lubricated.

“On your hands and knees,” Curran ordered, “Now.”

Heinwald happily obliged, shaking his hips provocatively as he positioned himself. He bit his lip as he felt the blunt press of the head of Curran’s dick nudging at his rim, slowly pressing inside. His body was definitely underprepared, pricks of pain shooting through his insides as Curran forced him open. Yet a part of him enjoyed the pain; it numbed him, slowly fading into mind-blowing pleasure. Soon he felt the press of Curran’s hips against his own, his balls gently rubbing against his as he sheathed himself inside of him completely.

“How you feeling babe?” Curran purred.

“Full,” Heinwald mewled.

“I’m gonna start moving now, ‘kay?”

“Hurry.”

Curran thrust his hips hard against Heinwald’s, making him scream in pleasure as he pistonned in and out of his body. He churned up his insides, pounding him fast, hard, rough; just how Heinwald liked it. His moans only encouraged Curran more, making him slam into Heinwald’s prostate until he saw stars. Heinwald arched his back, shaking his hips in time with Curran’s thrusts to impale himself, to pleasure himself at that perfect angle. He felt Curran’s arms slither between his legs, locking tightly around his thighs.

“Hold on tight babe,” Curran ordered.

Heinwald yelped as Curran picked him up. He threw an arm over Curran’s shoulder as Curran lifted him, still thrusting hard into him as he stood up. Gravity pulled Heinwald down onto Curran’s thick cock, and his heart raced with fear of falling. He trusted Curran wouldn’t drop him, but still enjoyed the rush of adrenaline from this risky position.

“You like being fucked like this?” Curran growled.

“Yeah,” Heinwald moaned, “It’s… it’s so intense…”

“I’m about to make it even better.”

Curran carried him towards the window, not so close that passersby could watch their lewd display, but close enough for Heinwald to see his own reflection. In this position, Heinwald could see everything: how wide his rim stretched to take Curran inside of him, the way his package jiggled and bounced with every thrust into his body, the lewd expression painting his face as his makeup smudged and ran. Heinwald almost couldn’t believe that was himself in the reflection; that he was capable of being so erotic. His cheeks flushed in embarrassment. He wanted to cover his face, but didn’t want to let go of Curran.

“Aww, getting flustered?” Curran teased.

“Do I always…” Heinwald panted, “Look that messed up… when we make love?”

“Messed up? I think the term you’re looking for is ‘sexy,’ babe.”

Curran thrust deep inside of him, making Heinwald throw his head back in ecstasy. His insides clenched around Curran’s dick, eliciting a throaty grunt from him.

“You’re so fucking hot,” Curran praised, “I love my sexy, slutty husband.”

“Curran…” Heinwald moaned, “Oh Curran… It feels so good! I love you too! I love you so much.”

“You getting close?”

“Mhm. I’m… I’m gonna…”

“Me too babe.”

Curran pulled his dick out and laid Heinwald back down on the bed, his arms getting tired from holding him up. He flipped him back over to see his face, kissing him passionately as he thrust back inside of him. With a few more pumps, Heinwald came, his seed spilling across his stomach as his muffled moans poured into Curran’s lips. Curran spasmed, blowing his load inside of him soon after. He pulled his softening dick from Heinwald’s stretched hole, yet their lips remained connected, the two exchanging chaste pecks and passionate kisses alike in the warmth of their afterglow.

“Want to go down and watch the rest of the cabaret?” Heinwald asked.

“I’d rather stay here and hold you close,” Curran replied, “Maybe we can get you cleaned up and we can spend the night here. I’m sure Ralph won’t mind.”

“You don’t think Lathna will be worried about us, do you?”

“She has Dominica looking after her. I’m sure she’ll be fine.”

Curran ran his fingers through Heinwald’s hair, undoing the tight, high ponytail and letting his long hair fall loose. Even with Heinwald’s makeup running, his hair tangling, his clothes shifted drastically out of place from their intense lovemaking, Curran was in complete awe of how beautiful Heinwald was. He kissed him softly on the tip of his nose, smiling gently.

“Hey Hein,” Curran said earnestly, “Thank you.”

“Thank you?” Heinwald wondered, “For what?”

“For everything. Y’know, you really saved me from a dark place. I can’t help but wonder how I would have turned out if I had never met you. Hell I’d have probably ended up locked in a dungeon or with my head in the executioner’s basket, now that I think about it. I’m so thankful, no, I’m blessed that you came into my life.”

“I suppose I could say the same about you Curran. I was so blind to the truth of this world. I was so hesitant to accept a part of myself for fear of being considered a heretic. I think it’s safe to say that we’ve both helped each other change for the better.”

Curran kissed Heinwald softly, stroking his white bangs out of his face to look into his bright, crimson eyes.

“I’m so glad I have you,” Curran smiled, “I love you, Heinwald.”

“I love you too, Curran.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Thanks for sticking around 'til the end! I know I had a really rocky updating schedule, but I hope that you all enjoyed it! This was my first attempt at delving into darker topics in literature and it was really fun to write! I hope you will all stick around for my future works, longform and oneshot alike!


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